


The Death of Kings

by Mirabell1998



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aegon is a royal prick with daddy issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dragons, F/M, Jon goes Beyond the Wall, Jon is a bastard Prince, Ned is pissed at Rhaegar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-04-29 19:37:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 48,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14479725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirabell1998/pseuds/Mirabell1998
Summary: Rhaegar wins the crown, but the game continues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Daenerys**

**Highgarden, AC 299**

Highgarden greeted them with a wide blue autumn sky and the trees clad in a dress of red, yellow and orange. Dany was just a small girl when she first visited the mighty seat of House Tyrell, but now she is almost a woman grown and soon by her brother the King’s will to be wed to Prince of Dorne.

You will be the second Daenerys to wed into House Martell, he had told her on the day he sent her away to Dorn to learn the customs of her new home. That was the official reason, but only those close to the King knew the truth.

The true reason was her nephew Jaehaerys or Jon as he preferred to be called. Jaeherys was the name give to him by his father, but Jon was the name his mother chose before her untimely death in a tower in Dorne.

I am no Targaryen Prince, he had told her once when he was particularly bitter. _Better for me to take a more fitting name. What better name than the one my mother chose for me?_

For Dany it has never mattered what kind of name he had. _Jaehaerys, Jon, Jae_. To her will always remain the young boy she has grown up with and who she came to love.

If her brother hadn’t grown weak and bitter after the loss of Lady Lyanna he would be a Prince and she wouldn’t be betrothed to Quentyn Martell.

She didn’t even dislike the comply Prince from Dorne. He was a good and kind man, but marring him is another matter.

“You look lost if you don’t mind my remark,” Princess Arianne gentle voice eased her out of her deep thoughts. The both of them sat perched in a stuffy litter, their faces hidden behind silken curtains to keep out the world around them. It was a way to travel that didn’t suit Dany at all, but Prince Lewyn insisted that a Princess should travel according to their station and not like common soldiers with their bare thighs wound around the saddle of a horse.

Dany sighed and leaned backwards, brushing her hand through her open hair.

“I have been feeling lost since the day I left Dragonstone,” she replied quietly.”It still feels like I left a piece of myself there.”

 “Oh, a piece you call it,” Princess Arianne remarked and laughed wickedly.”Or should I say someone?”

Dany was surprised by Princess Arianne’s direct remark. In Dorne most people talk about King Rhaegar’s second son in hushed whispers as if saying his name aloud could bring upon them the wrath of Doran Martell. Dany once dared to call him Prince Jaehaerys and earned herself a round of grim looks from half the Martell family, though back then it felt more like a triumph. A way to get back at them for forcing her to stay in a place she didn’t chose for herself.

However, with time she had learned to appreciate certain parts about the Dornish culture. Here nobody cared if she rode her horse in an unladylike fashion or learned how to use a spear in company of Prince Oberyn’s daughters. There was a certain freedom in this country that she wallowed, but that didn’t help to endear stern Doran Martell to her.

 _I am only a piece to gain power_ , she knew but doubted that her brother King Rhaegar cared about her feelings. She wrote him several times, but she never received a reply.

“I don’t know who you are talking about,” she told Princess Arianne with a feigned smile.

“Don’t play stupid!” Arianne teased.”I know how it feels to part with pleasurable things. Do you think I want to marry your glum brother?”

Dany laughed, but Arianne was not wrong. She loved her brother Viserys, but he really possessed a rather gloomy personality that was only surpassed by Jon.

“Viserys will come to love you,” she assured Princess Arianne, though that was another lie. Dany knew that her brother hoped to wed another, but their brother King Rhaegar had other plans for him.”I know it.”

Arianne bared her pearl teeth and twirled one of her inky curls.

“I don’t need his love, but heirs. Then he may go and take a lover and I will do the same. I heard Allyria Dayne won his favor. Is that true?”

“Aye,” Dany confirmed.”Allyria Dayne has my brother’s heart, but I doubt that will matter.  She will soon be wed to Beric Dondarrion.”

Arianne laughed.

“And I heard this Beric Dondarrion is a daring fellow…Maybe Lord Lighteningbolt will make Allyria Dayne forget abut your pale-faced brother.

Dany covered her mouth to stifle her laughter.

“Now tell me,” Arianne added and leaned closer.”Do you think the King allows _him_ to come here? You know who?”

Dany shook her head.

“Prince Jaehaerys and Prince Aegon would kill each other,” Dany explained.”I doubt that would bode well for Prince Aegon’s wedding with the Maid of Highgarden.”

Arianne nodded her head, but Dany saw a hint of disappointment showing on her face. It was strange, but Princess Arianne was the only one who hardly ever spoke ill about King Rhaegar’s second son.

Highgarden itself was even more impressive than she was able to recall from her blurry memories. The white pointed towers seemed to pierce the sky and around the castle she spotted the lush gardens.

 _Highgarden is a paradise_ , Lady Margaery Tyrell had called her home. _A paradise built by human hands._

Dany agreed, but she would have gladly traded this paradise for her _home_. Dragonstone, with it’s black towers, the rolling waves clashing against the cliffs and the familiar statues greeting her day.

_And my mother, brother and Jon._

“Beloved Aunt!” a familiar, but dreaded voice greeted her as she pulled the curtains of the litter aside.

It was her nephew Aegon, all silver-haired and purple eyed as his father the King. He was what a Targaryen Prince ought to look like, but these things never mattered to Dany. Princess Rhaenys had the Dornish look but that didn’t change the fact that she was her blood. _The blood of the dragon. Like Jon._

“Nephew,” she greeted and kissed his cheek. He has grown, rising above her by nearly a head.”It is pleasant to see you again. How long has it been? Two or three years?”

“Two,” he informed her and kissed her hand, before appraising her.”It has been two years, _Daenerys_.”

 _Daenerys_ , sounded so strange on his lips but she smiled as formality dictated.”Then it is good that you invited me here. My wedding is approaching.”

She saw the hurt washing over his face, but that made the small victory taste only sweeter. Aegon was the reason Jon was taken away from her and she knew why. _Petty jealousy._

Aegon gave her a tight smile and let go of her hand.

“Of course,” he said and shifted his attention to Arianne who has been observing everything with amusement.

“It is good to see you hale, cousin,” she remarked and kissed his cheek.”But I am surprised you didn’t bring your betrothed to greet us. As beautiful as she is one would expect you to bring her here.”

“My betrothed will join us later,” Aegon explained and led them inside, where they were received by a good dozen of servants, all dressed in green and gold. Like butterflies they fluttered around attending to their every need and soon they were led into a spacious solar.

What surprised her was the presence of her brother. She hadn’t seen him for nearly two years, but his features were familiar as ever: his slightly angular face, his disheveled silver hair and lilac eyes.

“Sister!” he stated, his usual glum features lightened by a seldom smile.

“Vis!” gasped and rushed towards him, enclosing him in a warm embrace, which he accepted without much complaining.”For a moment I didn’t even recognize you.”

He laughed and brushed her pale locks out of her face.”Have I really change that much?”

“Only at the first glance,” she replied and let go of her brother, before shifting her attention back to her nephew Aegon and Princess Arianne.

“I think you remember, Princess Arianne,” she introduced.

Arianne dropped a polite curtsy and grinned.

”It is a pleasure, Prince Viserys.”

Viserys dropped his head in greeting and forced a smile over his pale lips.

“It is a pleasure to behold your beauty, Princess Arianne.”

 “Your sister didn’t lie,” Arianne remarked with a chuckle, her warm laughter echoing through the room.”You are quite the poet, aren’t you?”

“If you say so, my Princess,” Viserys replied and smiled tightly.

“Poet or not,” Aegon added cheekily.”I think it is best if we allow the ladies to get settled. We will see each other later, won’t we?”

Dany nodded her head, longing for nothing more than a warm bath. Travelling in that stuffy litter made her sweat like a pig.

“That would be most welcome,” she replied politely and grasped for Arianne’ hand.”Though I am surprised neither the King nor my niece Rhaenys has arrived? How come?”

Aegon’s face darkened at the mention of his father.

“Father will arrive tomorrow and Rhaenys shortly after…she will arrive in company of her betrothed…Steffon Baratheon.”

“Interesting,” Arianne remarked later after they were soaking themselves in the spacious marble bath provided to them. It felt heavenly to be finally able to stretch one’s limps and to forget about the strains of the travel. It also helped to ease her disappointment.”We are finally going to see Tywin Lannister’s priced grandson and Aegon’. I heard he is as beautiful as Lord Jaime Lannister, all golden haired and graced with eyes of jade. Rhaenys has yet to share her opinion on the young man, but it can only be good that he is such a close confident of Aegon.”

“Aye,” Dany confirmed and leaned her head on her crossed arms.”At least one of us got lucky.”

Upon their return they found her brother in company of Aegon and his betrothed, the Maid of Highgarden.

Time has only enhanced her beautiful heart-shaped face and curvy body. Aegon can count himself lucky, though she didn’t have the impression that he held much love for the girl seated next to him. It was just another arrangement that King Rhaegar to put together the broken pieces of the realm he tore apart when he took Lyanna Stark for his own. It was her father King Aerys who murdered Brandon and Rickard Stark, but without his love for Lyanna Stark this war the Rebellion would have never been fought.

 _And Jon wouldn’t exist_ , she knew and brushed away those painful thoughts.

“Princess Daenerys!” the Maid of Highgarden greeted her and placed a kiss on her cheek.”It is wonderful to see you again. You have grown into quite the beauty.”

“I could say the same about you, Lady Margaery…soon to be Princess Margaery,” Dany replied politely, which earned her a brilliant smile in return.

“It is true,” Lady Margaery giggled.”I almost forgot.”

 _No you didn’t_ , Dany thought. The moment Margaery Tyrell came out of her mother’s womb she was destined to wed the Crown Prince or that is what Mace Tyrell envisioned. Not that King Rhaegar had much of choice to refuse. Without the Tyrell army behind him her brother would have never won his crown.

“Even I sometimes forget that I am a Princess,” Deanerys jested and received another chuckle. Then Lady Margaery grasped for her hand and made her sit down next to her on the cushioned seats arranged around the white wooden table carved in the form of a rose.

“Do you care for some wine, Daenerys?” Aegon inquired and lifted the pot of wine from the table.”It is Arbor…gift from Lord Redwyne.”

“One cup,” she replied politely, which earned her a silly smile from her nephew.

“You are still squeamish as ever,” he replied and filled the cup to the brim, before shoving it over the table.”Our grandmother was too strict with you, keeping you locked up in that gloomy castle that will soon be my seat.”

Dany tried not to wince at his remarked.

“On the contrary,” Dany replied politely.”I enjoy wine, but too much of it spoils the taste. I will savor more of it on your wedding day, sweet nephew.”

“Princess Daenerys speaks true,” Margaery agreed with a hesitant smile and folded her hands in front of her.”Arbor should be savored and not slurred down like common water.”

Aegon smiled tightly and sipped from his wine, but Daenerys saw the anger glinting in his eyes. The anger continued to linger there throughout the rest of the whole evening and it didn’t surprise her when he came to seek her out.

“What do you want from me?” she asked him as politely as she was able to manage. He towered above her, his pale face awash with moonlight.

“You always knew,” he replied, his voice deeper than she recalled.” _You_.”

Dany backed away from his touch and gave him a dark look.

“I am to be wed,” she told him coldly.”The same goes for you, Nephew.”

He didn’t seem to hear her cold words and moved closer, his hands grazing over her shoulders, as if to draw her into an embrace.

His touch made her shiver, but not in a pleasant manner.

“I am the Crown Prince!” he declared as if his words justified his actions.”I am to be King!”

She shrugged off his hands.

“Once my brother is dead,” she replied.”Then you will be King…and that won’t be for long if the gods are kind.”

“You don’t mean that,” he said, his voice rumbling with disbelief.”How can you defend him after all he did? He mistreated my mother and now he forces you to wed this comely cousin.”

“It is true,” she confirmed.”I hold a grudge against my brother, but he is still my King.”

“King,” Aegon repeated and grasped her shoulders, his breath trickling her nose.”My father was never worthy to be a King. You have to see that…and my marriage doesn’t matter. As a King I can have both. I will wed Margaery Tyrell to win her father’s loyalty and plant a few heirs inside her, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be mine. As long as Margaery gets a crown her father won’t complain. And…,”

“…I can be your mistress,” she ended for him and met his gaze.”That is a pretty dream Aegon, I was never yours. You took from me what I wanted and all because of petty jealousy. I rather marry your comely cousin than to reward your cruelty towards your own brother.”

It was only he blink of a second, but the mention of Jon woke his anger and within the blink of a second his fingers were digging into her neck, taking away her breath.

“Don’t call him my brother!” he seethed through greeted teeth.”Do you hear me?”

She was barely able to breathe and nodded her head.

Then finally, he let go of her throat.

“You may not think of him as your brother,” she croaked.”But I think of him as my nephew, my blood. I also know what really happened.”

“How did he tell you?” he asked and looked slightly stunned. It was another small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Dany shook her head.

”Rhaenys told me what happened. There was a reason Jon bashed your skull. I doubt your father would like to hear that his son called his beloved Lady Lyanna a whore.”

“Then go and tell my father,” Aegon taunted her and backed away.”I have three witnesses who will confirm my story. My father will not question his promised Prince and his dirty little bastard means nothing in the great scheme of things.”

She acted on pure instinct as she slapped him hard, making her knuckles burn in pain.

“Say it again and I will go to my brother and tell him that you tried to lay a hand on me!” she snarled at him and left him standing there in the darkness.

**…**

**Jon**

**Highgarden, AC 299**

Jon’s armor was polished like a looking glass as he beckoned his horse forward to partake in the first tilt. The tourney held in honor of his brother’s wedding was a small affair and mainly reserved for the young noblemen attending the wedding. Under normal circumstances the likes of Ser Barristan, Ser Gerold Hightower and Ser Oswell Whent would be riding in the tilt, but his father was never able to refuse a wish to Aegon. _His Promised Prince._

 _I will make him remember,_ he thought and lifted his lance and shield, proudly presenting the grimace of the laughing tree he painted on his shield. _I will make him remember, mother._

Then the horn was sounded and Jon drove his horse forward, the sound of horse hooves’ making the ground rattle.

His first enemy proved not much of a challenge. He landed in the dust after the first round and had to be carried away by his squires.

 _I will win this_ , he told himself. _They can force me in the Night’s Watch afterwards, but I will win this._

_If I have to go then with a smile on my face._

He continued to ride down the lists, throwing out one competitor after another. Among them were Dickon Tarly, the proud son of Randyll Tarly, Ser Cletus Yronwood, Ser Harrold Hardyng and many more. Jaehaerys Rivers the cursed bastard Prince knew them all, but now is _the Knight of the Laughing Tree._

_Like you, mother. Can you see me?_

_And you father_ , he thought and took a brief glimpse at his father King Rhaegar, seated on his gilded chair and wearing a silver crown inlaid with red rubies. Jon hasn’t seen him for three years, but it shocked him how old he looked. His once beautiful face was gaunt, his once thick silver hair thin and and streaked with grey. He no longer looked like the shining Dragon Prince that crowned his mother on the Tourney of Harrenhall, but a man stricken by a grievous illness.

Most of all he wanted to see Daenerys. He was sure that she was seated in the royal booth, dressed in a shock of pink silk. _Does she know?_

 _It matters not_ , he thought and urged his horse forward to meet his next enemy. It was no other than Loras Tyrell, the famous Knight of Flowers. Jon only knew him as Margaery Tyrell’s beautiful younger brother.

 _He is probably laughing about my painted shield_ , Jon thought and brought his horse into position.

Accompanied by the rolling of horse hooves he stormed towards his enemy.

It took two broken lances, before the the fabled knight of flowers rolled in the dirt. In the eyes of the southron Lords Jon was a bastard, but his teacher was no other than Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning

 _Your mother was a good woman and asked me to take care of you_ , he had told Jon when he asked him about his reasons for training him. It was also through Ser Arthur Dayne’s stories that Jon got to know his Lady Mother. His own father hardly ever spoke about her, claiming that he has no time to speak about the past when he has Seven Kingdoms to rule.

The people’s cheers meant nothing to him, only the fact that he will soon be riding against his brother Aegon.

 _Your are not my brother_ , Aegon had told him more than once, but nobody can deny their relations. Jon inherited his mother’s coloring, but like Aegon he had his father’s straight nose, even-shaped face and dark indigo eyes. Aegon’s eyes were a lighter shade of purple.

Even from afar he saw them glinting behind his helmet.

 _He knows that I am the rider_ , he was sure and straightened himself, kicking his feet into the sides of his horse. _Good, I want him to know that it was me._

As he approached his brother, clad in his crimson cloak and onyx armor decorated with red rubies, he raised himself in his seat, before slamming his lance with all might into his brother’s breast.

The lance exploded and sent him flying backwards, rolling in the dust. It was a glorious sight: Aegon lay sprawled on the ground and his numerous rubies littered the ground beneath.

 _Time to end this mummery_ , Jon thought and led his horse toward the royal booth.

By then his father had risen from his seat, his face a mixture of sadness and anger. It was the face he has been carrying throughout all his childhood.

Jon didn’t care.

He smiled and took the crown of white roses from his father’s hands, before leading his horse towards the Princess clad in a pink dress. Yet she was no longer the girl knew, but a woman grown.

Her purple eyes widened at his sight, her face taking a pale hue.

“For the most beautiful Princess!” he declared and threw the crown into her lap.

Then he whirled his horse around and left the cheering crowd behind.

 _He won_ , but his victory didn’t wash away the bitterness in his heart as he led his horse back to the stables. It wasn’t even his horse, but belonged to one of Viserys’ retainers.

 _I will have to thank Viserys_ , he knew and started to pull off his armor. He was drenched in sweat and it felt glorious to get out of the armor, though he has grown quite fond of his painted shield.

He didn’t know much time had passed when Ser Arthur Dayne who came to speak to him.

“You gave us all a terrible scare,” he told Jon and ruffled through his hair.”Especially, your father.”

Jon shrugged his shoulders and picked the shield from the ground.

“I assume Aegon wants to kill me now,” Jon remarked and followed after Ser Arthur Dayne.”Nothing new to me.”

“Aegon is resting,” Ser Arthur explained and patted his shoulder.”He sprained his leg during the fall and the Maester gave him sweet sleep. I am sure he will be out of action for a while, though I think it will be better for you to leave before the wedding.”

“I understand,” Jon replied and followed Ser Arthur to meet his father, who has become a stranger to him.

He found him in a lone solar, decorated with rich tapestries and a warm fire rustling in the hearth.

“You are your mother’s son,” was the first thing his father said and regarded him. He looked even older in the bright light of the chandeliers, his eyes lined with dark rings.”You are truly your mother’s son.”

Jon swallowed hard, before answering.

“Aye, Lady Lyanna was my mother and you are my father. I recall that you crowned her Queen of Love and Beauty over your rightful wife.”

A painful expression crossed over his father’s face. Then he averted his gaze and turned away, leaning on his chair.

“That was a different time, a different place,” he told Jon, his voice taking a familiar firm tone, the voice of King Rhaegar.”What you did was irresponsible and foolish. You know of the grudge Aegon holds against you and yet you dared to make such a mockery of him. My council will expect me to punish you.”

Jon gritted his teeth and accepted the verdict. It was true what Daenerys had told him on the day they took her away.

_My brother doesn’t rule the Seven Kingdoms. His council rules: Tywin Lannister, Mace Tyrell and Doran Martell._

“I understand,” Jon replied and made an attempt to leave, but his father’s voice stopped him.

“No, you don’t understand,” his father said, his voice heavy with sadness.”I told my council that I will wait until you are older, before I send you to the Night’s Watch, but you brought it upon yourself. You will leave tomorrow. Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell Whent will accompany you and make sure that you speak your vows.”

“I have no intention to forsake my duty,” he told his father and returned to Viserys, who was awaiting him with a bottle of wine.

He told him everything and in the end Viserys patted his shoulder and poured the last bid of Arbor into his goblet.

Then he lifted his goblet.”To my sister, the Queen of Love and Beauty!”

A weary smile crossed over his lips as he lifted his goblet.

“To your sister, the Queen of Love and Beauty!”

Afterwards his Uncle left and Jon allowed sleep to take him. He didn’t know how long he had been sleeping, but he was woken by the sound of footfalls on the ground.

When he opened his eyes he thought her to be a ghost, an illumination, but when her soft hands found their way into his hair he knew it was her.

He wanted to tell her so much, but it were the wrong words that came out of his mouth.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he he whispered, his hands wandering from her shoulder to her waits.

“Don’t fret,” she told him then and brushed her hands over his cheeks.”Arianne won’t sell us out. She is loyal to me and I know a few secrets about her she wouldn’t want to be revealed.”

Then she lifted the bedding and slipped beneath.

“Why did you do that?” she asked then, wriggling close to him.”Why give me the crown and make it harder?”

He swallowed hard, closed his eyes for a moment, before placing a kiss on her neck.

“It don’t know,” he stuttered. He was no a poet like his father who was able to compose songs that make maidens swoon.”I hoped Father would remember, but I was wrong.”

She laughed and lifted her head.

“My brother hasn’t been himself for many years,” she told him and leaned down to kiss him properly, all words banished from his mouth. He pulled her closer, his fingers digging into her soft skin. She seemed just as eager and deepened the kiss, touching his tongue in a way that left him trembling. Then she let go of him and pulled down her dress, revealing her to be bare beneath.

With a gasp, he pushed himself up and rolled her onto her back. They had never lain together, but he knew her body and how to please her. He kissed her between her breast, down her stomach and then between her legs.

He kissed her there until she was squirming and gasping his name, her hands treading and pulling on his hair. It was a pleasant kind of pain he craved.

“Now,” she told him, between a hoarse gasp and moan, her fingers leaving marks on his skin.

“No,” he told her, but her soft swollen lips and her sad eyes were fare more enticing than any honor left inside him.

He leaned down and pulled her into another kiss, before settling between her parted legs. She slung her feet around his back and it was all the encouragement he needed to slide home. She gasped, half in pain and half in pleasure, but soon her soft flesh gave away and all thoughts were washed away from his mind.

He was trying to find a steady rhythm, but it was too much. The heat, the soft skin and her gasps overwhelmed him.

When it was over he felt her hands smoothing through his sweaty hair.

“We could leave,” she told him.

“Aegon will be King one day and he will make sure to find us. He would kill us.”

She ignored his answer and pulled him into another kiss.

…


	2. Chapter 2

**Ned**

**The Wall, First Month of AC 300**

_The boy is now a man._ That was the first thing Eddard Stark thought when he laid eyes upon Lyanna’s boy. He has seen him only tree times in his ten and six years on this world, but he still recalled the quiet boy hiding behind Queen Rhaella’s skirt. Now he is a man grown, graced both with the features of a wolf and the dragon. His long solemn face and his dark brown hair belonged to his beloved sister, but the dark eyes with a speck of purple spoke of his father, King Rhaegar.

“Uncle!” the boy gasped when he saw Ned standing there next to Robb.”Robb!”

“Uncle! Robb!” Arya imitated Jon’s gasp of surprise and pulled down the hood of her grey cloak to reveal her long face and messy brown hair.”What about me? Did you forget me, cousin?”

“Arya!” Jon exclaimed and lifted his daughter from the ground, before swirling her around. Instantly, his rather serious face lightened, a seldom smile crossing over his lips.”I can’t believe that you are here.”

Arya giggled as Jon put her back down on the ground.

“Why is it so hard to believe? I always wanted to see the Wall and it has been nearly two years since our last meeting. I have to make sure that you don’t forget me.”

“I would never forget you,” Jon assured her, sadness washing over his features as he regarded his cousin. It wouldn’t surprise Ned if Jon was trying to find his mother in his cousin’s face. Those who knew Lya always remarked how much they looked alike.

“Mother didn’t want her to come, but you know Arya...she begged and begged until mother allowed it," Robb added with a smile and pulled his cousin into a brief hug.”Sansa is also sending her greetings.”

Looking at the two boys’s made his heart ache. Jon was tall and graceful while Robb was stocky and strong. His nephew’s dark hair and his son’s auburn locks contrasted each other even more, but these contrasts change nothing about the bond created between them through their shared childhood in King’s Landing. Shortly after the end of the Rebellion Ned was forced to hand over his oldest son as a hostage to keep the peace and to show his loyalty towards his new King. He still recalled Cat’s pain, but the gods were kind and graced them with more children, though that didn’t make it any easier for them. At age six Robb was returned to them, but in exchange Sansa was taken from them until Cat birthed their second son Brandon. A boy hostage has more value than a girl and soon their second son was exchanged for Sansa. Like Robb he was barely a year when he was taken away, but unlike his older brother he is still a hostage.

“Lady Stark is right, the Wall is no place for a girl,” Jon replied with an amused smile and made his way over to Ned. He stopped before Ned, obviously unsure how to behave in his presence.

Ned made it easy for the boy and pulled him into a brief hug.

“You have grown quite a bit,” Ned remarked and received an equally warm smile.”Your mother would be very happy.”

A painful expression crossed over Jon's face which made him regret his comment.

_Aye, Lya would be happy to see him all grown up, but she would have killed Rhaegar if she was here._

“Aye,” he replied hesitatingly.”I am sure you are right, Uncle. What brings you here all the way to the Wall?

“Are you seriously asking this question?” Arya asked quickly, though Ned wished she kept her mouth shut in presence of Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Arthur Dayne.”We are here to save you.”

“Save me?”

Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell Whent, who had been silently observing the reunion, exchanged grim looks.

Ned sighed and patted Arya’s shoulder.”Arya, please take a walk with Robb. We are going to stay here for a few more days and you will have plenty of time to speak to Jon. Now we need to speak alone.”

“Jaehaerys,” Ser Oswell Whent grumbled.”His name is Jaehaerys and our King commanded us to make sure that the boy speaks his vows. There is no escape, _Stark_.”

Ned ignored the man’s hostile comment.

Ser Oswell Whent may be a man of the Kingsguard, but the North is Ned’s dominion and the King holds little power here. One word and they are dead, though that would certainly provoke a war.

“Forgive my daughter,” he explained.”She is a young girl and does not understand what she is talking about.”

“Didn’t sound like that to me,” Ser Oswell replied warningly and touched his hand to the pommel of his sword.”One wrong step and you will regret it, _Stark_.”

“Ser Oswell…,” Jon began, but Ser Arthur grabbed his shoulder and held him back.

Ned laughed.

“Ser Oswell,” he said and stepped towards the man.”I have many regrets, but I am not afraid of your King. He is welcome to come North…Lord Howland Reed will be pleased to receive him at Moat Cailin at any time.”

“You dare!” Ser Oswell grumbled, but Ser Arthur Dayne’s sharp words cut him off.

“I think Lord Stark understands,” he said and pulled on Ser Oswell’s arm.”Let us rest and give the boy time to speak with Lord Stark.”

Ser Oswell cursed and grumbled, but soon they are gone, their white cloaks fluttering after them like the plumage of a bird.

“Be careful,” Jon told him in a warning tone.”Ser Oswell takes such insults serious.”

“I am the Lord of the North,” Ned countered.”But your father the King and his brood of flatterers like to forget about this fact. Come now, Lord Commander Mormont and your Grand-Uncle Aemon are awaiting us.”

The ghost of a smile returned to Jon’s lips.

“I will be pleased to meet the Lord Commander and my Grand-Uncle. I only know him from the letters he is sending to my grandmother.”

Ned nodded his head.

“I am sure he will be pleased to meet you.”

Seeing the old Maester’s wet unseeing eyes he made a very happy impression. For the small, shrunken man it was the first meeting with a member of his family in more than fifty years and probably his last.

“Please come closer,” the old Maester croaked.”Come here and let me take a look at you, my boy.”

Jon appeared moved by the Maester's request and knelt down before the man’s chair, before taking the old man’s gnarled hands fingers into his own hands to place them on his face.

Carefully the blind old man smoothed his hands over Jon’s face. First the brow, the nose , the mouth and the jaw.

In the end the tears were glistening in his pale unseeing eyes, but his smile was brighter than a star.

“Do my looks satisfy you, Grand-Uncle?” Jon asked, a hopeful expression washing over his face.

The old man chuckled and touched Jon’s cheek in a loving gesture.

“Oh, my boy…that is not the reason I asked for this. I am an old and I am inclined to look for familiarity in a world that is filled with darkness. I would be pleased to meet you even if you were a dwarf and hunchbacked. The gods be thanked that you are healthy, but if you care to know. I think you have my brother’s nose, though I doubt that counts much these days. I don’t think anyone recalls King Aegon the Unlikely’s face.”

Jon gave the old man’s folded hands a last squeeze, before taking a seat between Lord Commander Mormont and Ned.

“I know it is not much of a consolation, but it is a great honor to have you here, my Prince,” the old Bear added and stroked his beard while the raven on his shoulder used the moment to hop on his right shoulder.

“Corn…Corn…King…King!” the bird croaked loudly, which they tried to ignore.

“What I meant to say…We haven’t had a recruit of your high standing since your Grand Uncle Aemon took the black. We value your sacrifice…you should know that.”

“I thank you for your kind words,” Jon replied politely.”I hope to become worthy of your praise, but I have a small request, if you don’t mind.”

“I will grant it if it is in my power to do so,” the old Bear replied.”Name it.”

 “Stop calling me Prince. Being called by such titles will not bring me many friends and hardly anyone in the south calls me that. I am Jon,” Jon explained and granted the old Bear a hesitant smile.

“Jon it is,” the old Bear replied, a hit of a smile showing through his bushy beard.

“King…King…King!” the bird started to croak and the old Bear cursed the animal.”Corn…Corn…Corn!”

“Damn hat bird!” he cursed, but apologized quickly when he realized that all attention was resting on him.”Forgive me, my Lord Stark…and Jon.”

“No need,” Ned replied.”Maester Luwin’s birds are much the same…the bird sounds very hungry to me.”

The old Maester instantly understood Ned’s hint and gave him an understanding nod, before addressing the Lord Commander.

“Lord Stark speaks true. The bird sounds hungry,” the old Maester remarked with a chuckle.”As it appears I have enough corn left in my chambers. Would you assist me to get there, Lord Commander?”

A brief moment passed, but then the old Bear took the hint and finally rose to his feet.”Of course…Of course.”

When they were gone Jon turned back to Ned and went straight to the point.

“What did Arya mean when she said that you are here to save me?”

“What she said is true,” Ned confirmed, not intending to waste more time.”We are here to save you…if that is what you wish. I am here to give you a choice. Your father’s men can’t force you to speak a vow. Come with me to Winterfell.”

His nephew looked as if someone poured cold water over his head.

“Uncle,” he said took a deep breath.”You know…that it would mean…,” he trailed off.

“…mean war. I am well aware what it would mean, but you are also my sister’s son and I know that she would be very unhappy about all this. I promised her to take care of you and I am not a man to break a given promise.”

“Uncle,” the boy said, ringing with his composure.”The North suffered enough because of me.”

Ned felt the familiar feeling of rage stirring up inside him. He also wanted to curse Rhaegar for making the boy believe that it is his fault. It was his sister who refused to do her duty and Ned would never deny this hard truth in front of others, but Rhaegar was a grown man and his sister a young girl who wanted to escape her marriage. Rhaegar should have known better but the boy in front of him deserves no blame for his parent’s actions.

“Nonsense,” Ned assured him.”You are Lyanna Stark’s son, half a Northman like all my children. The Lords of the North held no love for the Mad King when he murdered my father and brother, but my sister’s son is another matter. Like me they consider the King’s actions an insult to their honor. They will follow me into war if I asked them…,”

“And die,” Jon ended the sentence for him. The he dropped his head as if to apologize.

“Forgive my tone, but the North bled enough and you would have to face the united strength of Dorne, the Stormlands, the Westerlands and the Reach.”

“What makes you think I would bring the fight south?” Ned asked.”Moat Cailin’s reconstruction is finished and Lord Manderly has been busy enlarging our fleet. Besides, the Vale and at least a part of the Riverlands would stand with us. I would never dare an offensive war, but both the North and the Vale are hard to take, even more so in winter. The Riverlands' defenses are a weakness, but Lord Edmure has been busy strengthening his hold fasts along his borders.”

“The Vale you say?” he asked, his eyes wide in shock.”But Jeyne Arryn is still a hostage.”

“Aye, but Lord Royce is trying to name Lord Harrold Hardyng the heir to the Vale.”

“She is Jon Arryn’s only living child,” Jon countered.”They really want to rob Jon Arryn’s rightful heir off her inheritance?”

“The girl hasn’t spent a single day of her life in the Vale,” Ned tried to explain his reasons.”She is also betrothed to Tommen Baratheon, Tywin Lannister’s puppet. Besides, Harrold Hardyng is a male heir…believe me…such decisions are not lightly made, but the Vale lost much in the Rebellion. Forgive their grudge…Lord Arryn died by the hand of your father’s executioner.”

Jon swallowed hard, before giving his thoughts on the matter.

“My father has his faults, but Jon Arryn was offered to bend the knee. He refused and died for it.”

Ned sighed.

“I know, but Jon Arryn was revered among his Lords and most of them consider his actions during the Rebellion justified. Your grandfather asked for my and Robert’s heads. He was trying to protect us.”

Jon averted his gaze and exhaled deeply.

Then he turned back to Ned, his grey eyes brimming with frustration.

“And what about Bran?” he asked.”He is still my father’s hostage. If you go to war he might be killed.”

“I have been straining your father’s patience more than once and never once did he harm Bran. I hold no love for the King, but he is not a man who would butcher a child. Besides, I only intend to take you to Winterfell. What happens afterwards is up to your father. He can either accept my decision or fight me.”

“It is not my father you should fear, but Tywin Lannister,” Jon replied.”He is a dangerous man and prepared to drench the realm both with the blood of your son and that of Jeyne Arryn if it means to keep his power. You said you came here to give me a choice…Does that mean you will accept my decision?”

Ned nodded his head in confirmation.”I will.”

A warm and trembling smile washed over Jon’s face that made Ned’s heart ache.

“I thank you but I can’t take your offer,” he answered.”But let me explain why. Bran is not the only reason, but for all my father’s failings…I still love my family…Queen Rhaella, her children and Rhaenys…they deserve nothing but peace. Going against my father would mean hurting them and I can’t do that. They might call me a bastard, but I am the blood of the dragon. I can’t fight my own family. Besides, it would only confirm their opinion of me…that I am some sort of Daemon Blackfyre striving for my brother’s crown.”

Ned was unable to hide his disappointment, but he gave the boy his word.

“If that is your decision… I will accept it.”

"I thank you,” Jon replied and gave him a tight smile.”I thank you for respecting my decision. Will you stay until I have spoken my vows?

Ned nodded his head.

“Aye, I will stay as will Robb and Arya.”

**…**

**Daenerys**

**Sunspear, First Month of AC 300**

A warm summer breeze was coming through the open windows, but it offered little comfort against the stifling heat. Dany chose a wide-cut summer dress, hat would have earned her strange looks in King’s Landing, but nobody here in Dorne seemed to care about a bit of naked skin. For the Dornish it was a natural way to ward off the heat.

“Ah, I forgot how hot it is here in Dorne during this time of the year,” Rhaenys remarked, a hesitant smile showing on her lips.”But it appears you are handling this much better than me.”

“That is your impression,” Daenerys replied and straightened herself.”After two years I should be used to it, but still miss the cool winds of Dragonstone.”

“Winds,” Rhaenys repeated and chuckled.”I think you wanted to say storms.”

“Says the future Lady of the Stormlands,” Dany said and fanned fresh air into her face.

Rhaenys’s gaze dropped to her folded hands. She looked unsure and strangely lost at the mention of her future marriage with the heir to the Stormlands. Dany met him briefly in Highgarden and didn’t know what to make of him. He certainly as beautiful as people said, but didn’t surprise her. His mother is a great beauty, though his father Stannis Baratheon was known to be a hard man who rarely smiled. Still, she didn’t know what to make of the golden-haired grandson of Tywin Lannister and the fact that he is one of Aegon’s friends didn’t help to endear him to her, despite his good manners and charming smiles.

_Well, Rhaenys has to like him and not you, silly girl._

“My marriage will have to wait for two more years,” Rhaenys remarked.”Lord Tywin wants to wait until his grandson is of age…soon they will start calling me a spinster.”

“Nobody will dare to call you that once you are wed to Cersei Lannister’s beautiful son,” Dany replied with an assuring smile.”All the ladies will envy you for your luck.”

“It is not only the opinion of the others that bothers me,” she replied and pit her full lips.”But I am the oldest and both you and my brother are expecting children while I am still unmarried. I loved my mother and I know she needed me at her side, but I long for my own family…I feel that I failed ours.”

Dany winced at the tone of her voice. When Rhaenys was falling into one of her melancholic states it reminded her so much of Jon…

“Nonsense,” she protested and leaned over to touch her folded hands.”You didn’t fail. There was nothing you could have done. That was all due to Aegon’s pride. You tried your best.”

Rhaenys sighed and gave Dany’s stomach a longing look.

“Well, now my brother got his will and Jon is gone…maybe now he will finally be able to make peace with the past. Margaery Tyrell will hopefully help my brother to forget about this silly infatuation he is harboring for you.”

 _Silly infatuation_ , Dany thought and felt the familiar feeling of bitterness stirring up inside her. It made her think of her marriage night and made her want to retch. The only consolation was that Quentyn Martell was not the kind of man to force himself upon her…at least since he found out that she was with child. A child she had known about before the wedding, but back then it was already too late. Jon was gone and she was left alone…

“Daenerys,” Rhaenys’ soft voice called her back from her memories.”Where is your mind?”

“I don’t know…I forgot…What did you say?”

“That Margaery Tyrell will hopefully make Aegon forget about his silly infatuation with you,” Rhaenys replied quickly.

Dany doubted that, but she didn’t want worry Rhaenys. She suffered enough, being her mother’s caretaker for years until her sad death barely a year ago.

“I hope so,” Dany agreed.”He is wed. We don’t need another Rebellion. I hope Princess Margaery gives him many strong sons and a daughter for me. That way Aegon will never see my child as a threat.”

It was only when she saw the confused look on Rhaenys’ face that she realized his folly. _I said too much. Nobody can know._

“Why would his cousin’s child be a danger to him?” Rhaenys asked.

Dany forced a smile over her lips.

“Aegon has been glowering at Quentyn throughout the whole marriage ceremony. I think he holds a grudge against him. That is what I meant.”

Rhaenys nodded her head.

 _I need to change the topic_ , Dany thought and struggled for words. _Ah, I yes I forgot to ask her…_

“Rhaenys…as we are speaking about the future,” she began and pursed her lips.”There is something I want to ask you.”

“What is it?” Rhaenys asked, her eyes shining with curiosity.

“My mother wrote to me that Aegon wants to wait until his child is born, before he takes Dragonstone as his seat. Thus my mother won’t be here for the birth…I hoped you might consider keeping me company.”

Rhaenys beamed, her whole face lightening up like a room full of candles.

“It would be my pleasure to stay with you,” Rhaenys assured her.”But first I need to ask for my father’s approval. He expected me to return in a month’s time. I am sure Uncle Doran will be able to convince him.”

 

**Jon**

**The Wall, First Month of AC 300**

A never-ending vastness of trees and snow stretched before them, though the beautiful view didn’t help to quench the longing in his chest. A day ago he spoke his vow at the heart tree beyond the Wall. His Uncle Eddard, Arya, Robb, Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell were there to hear him speak his vows. That his vows were not spoken with true sincerity didn’t matter to them.

 _I swore to father no sons, to hold no lands and to take no wife_ , Jon recalled the words of the vow and couldn’t help but to feel bitter about refusing his Uncle’s offer. How sweet it would be to see Aegon’s face when he realized that his plan failed, but he knew the history of his ancestors to well. His grandmother made sure of it and even now as a grown man he shuddered when he recalled the Maester’s retelling of the Dance of the Dragons.

 _No, I will not be the ruin of my house_ , he thought and banished away the bitterness in his heart. Then he shifted his attention back to Arya.

 His cousin’s face was a grimace of anger, her dark brown hair whirling around her head as she regarded the landscape. His Uncle seemed disappointed about his refusal, Robb accepted it with his usual calmness, but Arya was furious and made her anger known to him by ignoring him the next two days. She had been throwing murderous looks at Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell throughout the whole ceremony at the heart tree.

 _I cannot allow her to leave like that,_ he thought and decided to break the uncomfortable silence. _I need a change of topic._

“I heard you are training with the sword? Is that true?”

Arya brushed her dark hair out of he face and inclined her head to look at him.

“It it true. Even Mother accepted it in the end. She says that as long as I am not neglecting my other lessons she will tolerate it, though I doubt I will be able to continue once I am wed.”

 “Cley Cerwyn, right?” he asked, trying to recall the name of the poor fool.”Is he bad?”

Arya frowned and shook her head.

“He is not bad at all. He likes riding and he even gifted me a new horse to my last name day, but I am no lady like Sansa. They will make me wear a dress, get babies and stitch. I am not cut out for such a life. I would rather stay with you here at the Wall. I have watched the recruits…I am better than them.”

Jon sighed and ruffled through her hair.

“I would love to have you here at the Wall, but this is no place for girls. I am sure you recall the song of Dany Flint…Rhaenys played it for us when you last visited us at Dragonstone.

Arya frowned again and crossed her arms in front of her.

“I know, but it is stupid that you have to stay here,” Arya grumbled.”You should have taken Father’s offer. I am sure you would like it in Winterfell. I could show you my direwolf Nymeria. She is as big as a horse and very smart. She can also do all kind of tricks.”

“I am sure your father will allow you to visit. Next time you can bring her with you,” he offered and received the first smile in a long time.

“Nymeria could carry me to the Wall. She is better than a horse,” his cousin replied and smiled mischievously.

“Best not,” Jon replied.”Your Lady mother would be furious.”

Arya rolled her eyes.

“Do you always have to bring up my mother?” she asked.”You don’t even know her.”

What Arya said was true, but Jon couldn’t help but to feel guilty when he thought of Lady Stark. First Robb was taken from her when he was barely a year old. With Sansa it was much easier, as she only remained two years in the south until her younger brother Bran took her place. The boy is still a hostage and all Lord Stark and Lady Stark had were letters.

A few of my Lords don’t even consider Bran a Northman, his Uncle had told him once, though it is true. Brandon is a sweet boy, but he knows nothing of the North. He dreams of knighthood and to serve in the Kingsguard. The likelihood for the boy to return home is very small and he is also part of he reason Jon refused his Uncle’s offer.

 _Tywin Lannister would murder him the boy to make a bloody statement_.

“It is true…I have never met her, but I can’t help but to feel guilty,” he admitted.”Her father was executed, her sister wed to the Kingslayer and Lord Edmure spent years as a hostage. If my mother and father hadn’t…,” he continued, but Arya cut him off.

“…shagged you wouldn’t exist,” she ended for him.”Spare me your brooding. Mother is sad about Brandon, but it is your father she dislikes. He was the one who couldn’t keep his cock in his breeches.”

“Arya,” Jon chided, though he was smiling. She was her father’s daughter. False smiles and flattery were never to Eddard Stark’s taste.”

Arya wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“I can and I will!” she declared haughtily and Jon saw that she wanted to say much more, but then Robb appeared and interrupted their conversation.

“Jon is right,” Robb said and flashed Arya a stern look.”Don’t speak like that in front of Ser Oswell.”

“Why should I care about their opinion?” asked, her voice brimming with anger.”They have what they wanted. Jon swore the stupid vow and now they can leave and go back to their stupid King and his stupid advisors.”

”Stupid here and stupid there,” Robb chided her.”Mother would wash your ears if she heard you use such foul language. Besides, father wants to speak to you…We join you later.”

“As you wish,” Arya replied and pulled the hood of her cloak over her shoulder, before rushing off.

“She is rightfully angry,” Robb remarked and moved to stand next to him.”That your father sends you here just because of a foolish brawl between brothers is ridiculous. I was six when I left you, but I recall Aegon. I know how he can be and if you punched him he surely deserved it.”

“He did deserve it and I don’t regret it, but I don’t think the fight was the reason my father agreed to send me to the Night’s Watch. His advisors have been trying to get rid of me for years and I gave them the possibility to do so. As I said…Aegon deserved it, but I was a fool to allow my feelings to get the better of me.”

Robb moved closer and gave his shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“If you don’t mind me asking...What did he do?”

“He called my mother a whore,” He explained through gritted teeth.”I was unable to control myself. I was a fool.”

 “You are no fool,” Robb told him.”I would have done the same if he said something like that about my mother.”

“It was not alone what he said that woke my anger,” Jon admitted.”I love my mother, but that doesn’t mean Aegon is wrong. If she did her duty the Seven Kingdoms would be whole.”

 “You are fooling yourself if you think that way, cousin,” Robb disagreed.”Peace is an illusion as long as humans continue to strive for power.”

Jon wrinkled his brows.

 “Is that something you read in a history book?”

Robb laughed and nodded his head in confirmation.

“Yes, Maester Luwin makes me study history.”

“Then tell Maester Luwin he is a very wise man,” he replied and pulled his cloak tighter. An icy gush of wind was rolling over him and made him shiver. Jon was used to the stormy weather of Dragonstone, but the icy winds of the North were different, sharp like bare steel.

“I will,” Robb said and laughed again. Then they went to join his Uncle and Arya.

For a brief moment it felt as if he was back with his family in Dragonstone, but this feeling of warmth faded when returned to his new sleeping compartments. There was something cold and lonely about this place.

 _I will never return home_.

The realization dawned over him like a shower of coldness and left his eyes wet and his breathing labored.

_I will never return home._

“There you are,” Ser Arthur Dayne called him out of his gloomy state of mind.”I have been searching the whole castle.”

There was a strange smile showing on the knight’s lips, filled both with warmth and sadness.

Jon tried to be polite, but his anger came bursting forth in that moment of weakness.

“Knowing Ser Oswell I thought you would leave on the same day,” Jon snapped and brushed his hand over his face to dry tear.

Ser Arthur sensed his pain and stepped closer.

“I know it hurts,” he told him and touched his arm.”I wish I could stay here with you to make it easier, but I am still sworn to your father. He was once like a brother to me and he needs me…maybe even more than you, but once my duty is done I will come here. I promise you, we will see each other again, _my Prince_.”

“I am no Prince,” Jon stuttered, fresh tears burning in his eyes.”You know that.”

“For me you are,” Ser Arthur countered.”I have spent moons with your mother in that tower and I came to love her as a friend. I care not what Mace Tyrell, Doran Martell and Tywin Lannister say…you are and you will always be a Prince. Your father told me the same when I last spoke to him.”

 “He did?” Jon asked unbelievingly.”But why was he so cold to me when he last saw each other?”

Ser Arthur sighed.

“I don’t know if you notices, but your father is very sick,” Ser Arthur explained.”Your father didn’t send you here to punish you, but to protect you and to keep the peace. Once he dies Aegon will be King. Your father doesn’t trust Aegon to be able to leave his grudge behind him and you know how fragile peace is. Your father doesn’t trust Tywin, but he needs him. Mace Tyrell and Doran Martell are more trustworthy, but they have always disliked each other and Tywin could use that to his advantage. Your Uncle’s grudge against your father doesn’t help either…and winter is almost upon us. Lord Commander Mormont is an old man and the Night’s Watch will be in need of a capable Commander.”

“Why?” Jon asked.”Why didn’t he tell me?”

Ser Arthur sighed and ruffled his hand through his graying hair.

“You know your father. Making his thoughts known to others was never one of his greatest strengths,” he explained.”If you don’t believe my words, I have something for you. Your father told me to give it to you as a parting gift.”

“A parting gift?” Jon asked and Ser Arthur nodded his head confirmation, before leading him to his chambers. He and Ser Oswell were both lodged in Hardin’s Tower, but Jon was glad that the grim old man was not here to bother them.

“It is here,” Ser Arthur explained and searched through his belongings.”It is here.”

It was something round, wrapped in a crimson cloth embellished with golden thread. Whatever it was it had to be very precious.

“What is it?”

“Look for yourself,” Ser Arthur replied and handed him the wrapped gift.

With trembling hands Jon pushed the cloth aside and his breath nearly stopped when he saw what it was.

“That is…for me?” Jon asked and let his hand smooth over the rough surface of the dragon egg. It was more beautiful than a jewel, the surface shining like jade and covered in swirling vines of gold.

“Aye,” Ser Arthur replied and ruffled through his hair.”It is yours.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who want to murder me, read Dany's chapter again and you will recognize that her child is Jon's. There will be a more definitive confirmation next chapter. In regards to Jon: He will go Beyond the Wall and meet someone he didn't meet in Canon (both book and Show). And yes, there will be a dragon waiting for Dany in the future. It is in the tags.


	3. Chapter 3

**Rhaella**

**Dragonstone, Eleventh Month of AC 300**

Dragonstone has been her home since Aerys’ death. It was the place where many of her lost children were born and died. It was a place of happy memories and grief.

Truly, I am growing into an old woman, losing myself to these sentimental memories.

It is time to leave the past behind and to face the future, she thought as she regarded her grandson Aegon, his wife Princess Margaery and newborn daughter Eleana.

With a beautiful and kind girl like like Margaery at his side her grandson ought to call himself lucky, but the heart is a treacherous thing, always striving for things it can’t have.

Rhaella knew the feeling, for once in her youth she felt the same way. It was Ser Bonifer Hasty who won her heart and favor at a tourney. That was before her father King Jaehaerys forced her to wed her brother and long before Aerys grew mad.

“Grandmother…Do you want to hold her?” Margaery asked in her usual soft-spoken voice. In looks she was all her mother, but underneath that sweet smile she hid her grandmother’s wits. Her dearest friend Joanna was of a similar sort, outwardly sweet like running honey and inwardly a lioness with sharp fangs. It was no wonder that Tywin grieved her death so much and that Aerys desired her.

“Of course,” Rhaella replied with a smile and opened her arms to receive her grand-grand daughter. She was a sweet little thing, though she looked more like a Tyrell than a Targaryen. Her hair was golden-brown, a touch lighter than her mother’s soft locks and only her eyes were reminiscent of her dragonblood.

Not that Rhaella cared. She loves all her grandchildren, Rhaenys with her Dornish locks, Jon with his Northern coloring and Aegon with his Dornish tan. All that ever mattered to her was that they are healthy. She saw enough of her own children perish in their youth.

“She is lovely,” she complimented first Margaery and then Aegon, who was playing a game of Cyvasse against Lord Steffon Baratheon.

Looking at he young man she couldn’t help but to be reminded of young Tywin Lannister, the man who was once Aerys’ friend and loyal Hand, before their petty fights tore them apart.

There was no doubt about it, the boy has his grandfather’s smile, but she wondered if he also has his wits.

A proud smile washed over Aegon’s lips when he heard her compliment. It was Elia’s smile and warm like spring sunshine, but Rhaella knew all too well about the anger residing in the boy's heart. Her grandson was graced with the temper of a dragon and the cockiness of his Uncle Oberyn, but that wasn’t the only reason she worried for him.

 _He needs to make peace with the past_ , she thought with a hint of bitterness stirring in her heart. It would have been better if he and his brother found a semblance of acceptance, but now it was too late for that. Jon was removed from their midst, but it left a gaping wound she was unable to ignore. She shouldn’t harbor a grudge against her grandson Aegon, but at times she couldn’t help but to feel that way.

_Maybe I am a cursed woman. I killed murdered my husband and now I am nursing such ill thoughts towards my son’s heir._

“I know,” Aegon added and moved one of the pieces over the board.”Just by looking at her I know she will be a great beauty.”

Margaery nodded her head in agreement, but Rhaella also noticed a hint of apprehension on her features.

“It is true, but I hope she will soon have a brother to play with, though the Measter said we should wait for another year. The birth was hard and long…At times I thought I would never be able to hold her in my arms.”

Rhaella felt for the girl. She knew better than anyone how it feels to be forced into the birthing bed and suffer for days. Men like to brag about their scars and valor in battle, but none of them know the bed of blood.

“They say the first child is always the hardest and I am sure your next one will be much easier, though I have to agree with the Maester. Take your time. You are so very young and there is no need to hurry now that Aegon has Eleana.”

For some reason, her comment made Steffon Baratheon laugh.

“There is no doubt that little Princess Eleana is a precious little dragonfly, but only a son will secure Aegon’s position, though I have no doubt that Princess Margaery will fail in her duty.”

Aegon smiled warmly while a hint of discomfort showed on Margaery’s face. It was only very subtle and hidden by a smile, but Rhaella spent half her life in King’s Landing to notice such nuances.

“There is no doubt that my wife will do her duty,” Aegon agreed enthusiastically.”By then you will surely be wed to my sister. Then we will be more than distant cousins, but then you will be truly my brother,” he added, his purple eyes flickering to Rhaenys.

“One day, I am sure you two will have a precious daughter of your own and one of my sons will count himself lucky to name her his wife.”

Rhaenys, who has been reading one of her books, graced them each with an amused smile.

“One or three daughters would be nice. I noticed that they are easier to handle than boys,” she jested.”But I wouldn’t mind a few sons along the way. Hopefully a babe as quiet as our Aunt’s boy Aemon.”

Aegon snorted and moved another piece over the board.

“Aemon, what a silly name for a Dornish Prince,” he declared haughtily. The warmth was gone from his face and only the old bitterness remained.”I am surprised Quentyn allowed her to name him like that. He always was a weak-willed fool.”

“I don’t understand your ire, dear brother. Daenerys’ babe, despite his dark hair, looks very much like a Targaryen. I don’t understand why you think that his name is inappropriate. Ser Aemon the Dragonknight was a fine man and Daenerys always liked to to hear stories about him when she was a little girl,” Rhaenys remarked and put her reading material away. Then she turned to look at Aegon.

”I recall that you were much the same. Often enough I heard you declare “I am Aemon the Dragonknight!” when you were playing with your companions,” Rhaenys added teasingly.

“Oh yes, I remember!” Steffon added, amusement shining in his jade eyes.”You even made yourself a wooden sword, pretending it was _Dark Sister_.”

Aemon flushed and Margaery chuckled softly.

“I was a little boy!” Aegon grumbled.”I only think it is a bit presumptuous of our cousin to name his son like that. I would understand it if Viserys did it, but Quentyn is only the second son…it only shows that this marriage was a mistake. Father must have been drunk when he allowed that match. Even Margaerys’ brother with his ailing leg would have made a better match than my clumsy cousin. At least he is the heir and not a second son. Don’t you agree, grandmother?”

Rhaella was so surprised by the question that she didn’t know what to answer. She would have never dared to comment on such matters of the state, because she knew her son’s council wouldn’t have approved if she tried to meddle in their affairs. Tywin Lannister would be quick to silence her by mentioning the debt she owed his son and the Lannister family.

It was her who plotted Aerys death after the bloody battle of the Trident was fought, but it was Jaime Lannister who took her shame as his own. Nobody knew what really happened that bloody day. Nobody knew that she and Elia convinced Jaime Lannister to slay her husband and his mad pyromancers to pave the way for her son to seize the crown…

Truly, she had hated Aerys for his cruelty and menace, but even now his murder was weighing heavily on her mind. Her son may have forgiven her, but it is a grave sin to kill a King. Elia used to chide her for harboring such guilt, but it was all Rhaella’s idea while Jaime Lannister was the one who buried his blade in her husband’s back.

“Grandmother!” Rhaenys called out to her, forcing her to return to the present.”Are you feeling sick? You look so pale.”

She folded her hands, to hide her trembling. Then she forced a smile over her lips.

“When I am visiting your father, we rarely speak about politics and my personal opinion doesn’t matter all that much to your father,” she lied to Aegon’s face.

Rhaegar told her his reasons for allowing the match more than once, though she never asked him for a justification. She didn’t understand why, but she had the feeling he was asking for her blessing on the matter, something she hadn’t been able to give, knowing her daughters feelings on the matter.

 _Mace Tyrell offered me to wed Daenerys to his heir Willas_ , Rhaegar had explained to her. _It would be a good match for sure, but I don’t want Aegon close to Daenerys. I can’t have him hankering after my sister when he is supposed to wed Margaery Tyrell. Lord Tywin thinks I should have her wed to Doran’s son, because Aegon would never dare to shame his Uncle in such a way. I hold no love for our Lord Hand but I agree with his assessment, though I certainly can’t tell that to Mace Tyrell’s face. You know how vain he is concerning his daughter’s well-being. I will have to find another reason to justify my refusal._

Back then she had remained silent, an old habit from her days as Aerys’ Queen she has never been to shrug off until now.

 _I should have kept Elia from poisoning Aegon against Jon and his father_ , she thought. _I should have spoken a firm word._

She took a deep breath and gave Aegon a serious glance.

“Yet I have to say I am quite disappointed to hear such disrespect from your mouth towards your own cousin, Aegon. Your Uncle Doran would wash your ears if he was her and heard your shameful words.”

Aegon looked like slapped, not used to such harsh words from her mouth.

After a moment of heavy silence he dipped his head as if to apologize.

“I am sorry, grandmother. The wine is losing my tongue.”

Rhaella nodded her head in understanding.

“I hope so.”

…

**Daenerys**

**Sunspear, Twelfth Month of AC 300**

“Aemon,” her mother Rhaella repeated lovingly as she eyed her son sleeping in his crib.”I like the name, but didn’t Quentyn mind?”

“He didn’t mind after I told his father my first choice of name,” Dany informed her mother and had a hard time to hide her smile.

Rhaenys gave her a curious look and Viserys tried to hide his own smile.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was your first choice of name?”

“Daeron,” Dany replied in a serious voice, but recalled Doran Martell’s flabbergasted face. It was a small triumph, but a triumph nonetheless.

Rhaenys looked more amused than shocked. Her mother frowned, but the chiding smile on her lips told her that she was not really angry with her.

“Well, it is good that you recognized your folly and went for Aemon. I heard from Rhaenys that you named him after the famous Dragonknight, but your Grand-Uncle Aemon is also a remarkable man. I like the name.”

“I like the name too,” Rhaenys agreed and smoothed her hand over the boy’s dark hair.

“I also think it is quite appropriate,” Viserys added.”He may not have the silver hair, but your eyes, sister. I also think he looks a bit like our King.”

Dany didn’t dare to agree, but what her brother said is true. Looking at the boy’s features, she saw the resemblance. He was Rhaegar’s grandson through and through.

Her mother nodded her head, something like recognition washing over her face.

“You are right, my son. He has Rhaegar’s looks, but that is no surprise…as we are all so closely related,” she explained and brushed Viserys’ messy hair out of his face.

Seeing her brother’s frown, Dany had to chuckle. It was a bat habit of her mother to complain about her brother’s messy hair.

Yet sadness and age were also showing her lined face.

 _She misses Jon_ , she knew but didn’t dare to speak about it, especially not here in Dorne where her nephew’s name was equivalent to a curse.

“Mother, please!” Viserys complained.”I am a man grown!”

Rhaella chuckled and placed a kiss on Viserys’ cheek.”You should know that children never really grow in their mother’s eyes. You will always be my little boy.”

Viserys nodded his head and touched his mother’s shoulder.

“I know mother, but I have to ask of you to refrain from doing that in front of Arianne. She would never stop teasing me about it,” he explained softly, which earned him another ruffle through his hair.

“I don’t think Arianne thinks less of you if you show respect to your mother,” Rhaenys remarked from her seat and stifled a laugh.”In Dorne we have a saying: A man who treats his mother well will be a good husband.”

“Did you hear what your niece said?” her mother teased.”There is no reason to get embarrassed. I admit…I was rather skeptical when my son told me to retire to Dorne, but now I think it is the right decision,” she continued and gave them each a loving smile.”It will be good to have everyone here, especially you Rhaenys…as you will leave us in a year’s time.”

“I am happy too,” Rhaenys replied sweetly.”I know my mother had need of my presence, but I have missed you and it was nice to see Dragonstone again…but it is even better that you are going to stay here.”

“And I have missed you,” her mother replied.

“The truth is…we have all missed you,” Viserys added hesitatingly and earned himself a warm smile from their mother.

“That is so,” Rhaenys added and rose to her feet.”And I hope we will soon find enough time to sit down and speak. I missed your stories and I have a lot to share with you.”

“Of course,” her mother replied.”It would be a pleasure. These two years have been far too long, but now we will have plenty of time to speak about everything.”

“Exactly, plenty of time,” Viserys added, with a hint of impatience ringing in his voice and rose to his feet. Knowing him he has important things to attend to, which usually involve his wife.”You look tired if you don’t mind me saying so, mother. You should rest.”

“Well, well who is now fretting about me,” her mother remarked.”I admit I am a little tired, but I would like to spend a bit more time with my grandson…as I was unable to be here for his birth.”

 _She sounds guilty_ , Dany thought and gave her mother an assuring smile _. I have to change that._

“I don’t mind,” she told her mother.”I understand that you couldn’t leave Dragonstone.”

“Listen to your daughter, grandmother,” Rhaenys added and joined Viserys at the door.” I am also sure my brother Aegon appreciates how much effort you undertook to prepare his seat for his wife and child.”

 “I am sure that is so,” her mother replied and smiled, but the moment the door had closed behind them it was gone.

“Does anyone know?” her mother asked then, her voice ringing with fear.”Does anyone know the truth about your boy?”

“The truth about my boy,” Dany repeated, her heart hammering in her chest. Her throat felt dry and she lacked the appropriate words to respond.

“Aye, the truth,” her mother said, kneeled down before her and enclosed her hands in hers.”The boy is Jon’s son, isn’t he?”

Dany nodded her head, feeling both relief and fear washing over her.

“How do you know?”

Her mother gave her an accusing look.

“Others might not recognize it, but I have been raising Jon since he was a little babe.”

“He is,” she confirmed at last. Then she pulled her mother into an embrace and buried her head in her shoulder, the smell of her lavender perfume filling her nose. The smell made her feel warm and safe. It was the smell of a mother and it brought tears to her eyes.

“I was foolish,” she admitted honestly.”But I don’t regret it.”

Her mother kissed her cheek and rose back to her feet, before moving back to her son’s crib.

“I don’t approve, but I understand,” her mother replied and threw the babe a loving smile.”How could one regret a precious boy like this one?

Then her mother turned back to her, the accusing looks still present on her face.

“I am a cruel person…I know, but Quentyn can never know,” she told her mother.”Do you understand, mother?”

A moment of heavy silence followed and an ominous expression showed on her mother’s face.

“I understand,” the Queen said at last and sat down in the opposing chair.” I don’t approve of it and would have thought you smarter than that, but I understand. Aegon can never know about the boy…especially now that his wife bore him a daughter. He didn’t admit it openly, but I am sure he hoped for a son. If the gods are kind, he will have plenty of sons in the future, but he would always perceive Aemon as a threat.”

 “I know,” Dany replied with a heavy voice.”I know.”

…

**Beyond the Wall, Twelfth Month of AC 300**

“They are dead,” his Uncle Benjen remarked, his grey blue eyes scurrying over the dead bodies littering the clearing.

Jon nodded his head, hiding his face in the thick shawl wrapped around his head. Jon has been residing on the Wall for nearly a year, but the cold was still hard to endure. Even on a bright day, when the sun was gracing them with pleasant warmth, he felt cold, shivering under his thick pelt like a babe.

 _A fire would be nice_ , he mused and thought on the the dragon egg he always carried in his belongings. If the creature ever hatched, which he doubted, it would certainly be able to provide them with a pleasant fire.

“Do they frighten you?” Ser Waymar Royce taunted, a proud smile curling on his lips. He was the youngest son of Yohn Royce, a friend of his Uncle, but that mattered little. The proud lording liked to taunt everyone around him.

Jon considered himself wiser now and didn’t take the bait.

“This is my third mission beyond the Wall, Royce,” he replied indifferently.”I have seen more dead Wildlings than you can know.”

“Jon speaks true,” his Uncle Benjen added with an amused smile.”And he is two years younger than you, Royce.”

Royce frowned, but didn’t dare to speak out against the First Ranger.

“I say we leave,” Gared, another ranger pointed out.”We have a long ride before us and the night is falling.”

Royce rolled his eyes.”The night falls everyday. Are you wetting your pants because of the dark, old man?”

 _He wouldn’t dare to speak like that with my Uncle_ , he thought but Gared was a commoner and beneath the proud lordling from the Vale.

“You better shut your mouth, Royce,” His Uncle Benjen grumbled angrily at the younger man.”Gared has been ranging while I was still in my swaddling clothes. He knows these woods better than anyone. Besides, I am in command here and not you.”

“As you say, Stark.”

Though there was truth in Royce’s words despite his lack of manners. Old Gared trembled and looked around as if someone was going to attack them at any moment.

Jon shared that feeling.

“Mormont told us to track them down and we did,” Uncle Benjen added and turned to Jon and Gared.”I doubt the dead will trouble us in the future and I don’t like the weather. I agree with your assessment, Gared. We ride back.”

Gared nodded his head and Jon felt a hint of relief, but Royce seemed disappointed. He eyed the twilight sky with a half-bored and half-distracted look, before shifting his attention to the dead Wildlings.

There were eight of them: three men, two women and three children. They were cold pale-faced bodies, half-covered by the snow and littered around the fire pit. There was no blood to be seen, which could only mean that the cold killed them.

As always Royce stated the obvious, but in such an insufferable manner that Jon didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or kick the fool from his horse.

“Before we leave we should determine how they died. I see no blood, no signs of a fight or footsteps.”

“There is nothing to determine, Royce,” Gared added grimly.”It was the cold. The cold is the real enemy out here. It comes quietly and at first you only shiver and stamp your feet, but then it starts to burn. Nothing burns like the cold, but only for a while before it gets inside you and numbs you until you don’t have the strength to continue. Then it is easy to go to sleep. They say you don’t feel any pain towards the end. You go peaceful, like being rocked to sleep in your mother’s arms.”

“To hear such eloquence from you surprises me, Gared,” Ser Royce mocked the man and it was quite obvious that he had no intention to leave it at that, but Uncle Benjen cut him off again.

“Keep your mouth closed,” Benjen told him in a sharp tone.”Or the cold might freeze it off.”

Gared chuckled and so did Jon, his laugh muffled by his thick shawl.

“Stark speaks true, my young lordling,” Gared added and pulled back his hood to give the young man a good look at the stumps that were once his two ears.”Two ears, three toes and the little of my left hand I lost to the cold.”

Anger washed over Ser Waymar’s face, but then something aroused his attention and he turned around, eying the trees behind them with a suspicious glance.

“There…something was moving over there in the between the trees,” he explained almost politely.

“Are you sure?” Benjen asked and crawled down from his horse.”Where? Show me?”

Royce pointed ahead towards a thick group of Ironwood trees, poking out through the snowy surface.

“It was over there.”

His Uncle Benjen swallowed hard, climbed from his horse and pulled his sword from the scabbard.

Jon followed suit, dismounted his horse and pulled his blade free. So did Gared and Royce who was finally getting the excitement he was craving for.

“The snow is too deep for the horses,” Benjen told them.”We leave them here. Stay close and keep your weapons ready.”

Quietly they stamped through the snow, accompanied by the howling of the wind and the whispering of the leaves.

It felt as if they were speaking to them, warning them of the danger ahead.

Then somewhere in the distance, Jon heard the howl of a wolf. The sound made him shiver, but not from the cold.

“Something is wrong here,” Gared muttered when they had nearly made it to the tree, all four of them knee-deep in the snow.

Jon felt it too as an icy gush of wind rolled over them and whirling up their cloaks.

“I think it is merely the wind,” Royce tried to downplay the situation, but even Uncle Benjen seemed worried.

“Something is there…be it human or animal, we will know the truth soon enough,” Benjen whispered and his voice nearly drowned out by the howling of the wind.”Brace yourself.”

“I am always ready!” Royce insisted and lifted his pretty blade, precious jewels glittering on his hilt.

“A fire…we should make fire,” Gared suggested.”Fire scares wild animals.”

”Fire would be good, but we don’t have time for that,” Benjen countered and continued to lead them along until they finally reached one of the gnarled trees.

It was only subtle at first, but then he spotted something. It was a human shape, a shadow cast against the ground awash with moonlight.

“There,” Jon whispered and lifted his blade.”A shadow.”

It was only the blink of a moment, but then the person or animal stormed straight towards him, inhuman cries filling the air.

Only when the moonlight fell over this thing he knew that it was a human being. He acted instinctively and swung his blade at the creature, taking off the head with a quick cut of his blade.

The creature dropped to the ground like a puppet without strings, the chopped of head staring back at him with frosty blue eyes while the body was continuing to twitch.

Jon froze, trying to make sense of what he just saw.

“Gods be good…it is still moving,” Gared remarked fearfully, his face pale like curdled milk.”What do you make of it?”

Benjen was stunned into silence and Royce proved impatient as ever.

“Stop pissing yourself, old man!” he mocked.”Have you never cut off the head of a chicken? I did when I was young boy and it ran all the way over the yard until it dropped dead.”

“That was no chicken, but a human being…,” Uncle Benjen began, but Gared’s gasp cut him off.

“There..,” Gared stuttered and pointed ahead. Jon blinked once or twice, making sure it was only his imagination play a trick on his mind.

There, more shadows were stamping through the snow, their eyes each two twin stars of blue frost.

“Gods be good!” he heard Gared mutter as the creatures stormed towards them.

Jon clutched his blade and buried it into the first person that came his way, but as before, it kept moving it’s gnarled fingers reaching for him and brushing over his skin.

 _The head_ , he recalled, pulled his blade free and stumbled backwards, before cutting off the head.

Yet he had no time to savor his small victory. Gared’s loud cries alarmed him and he moved through the snow towards the struggling man. Two of these creatures were on top of him, wrangling with the crying man.

Jon cut off another head and buried his blade in the back of the other creature. Wrenching his sword free he stumbled backwards, nearly falling into the snow, but at the last moment he found his footing and slammed his sword in the creature’s head, splattering flesh and brain over the snowy ground.

When it was done he turned around and found Gared still alive, but heavily bleeding from a wound at his right foot.

“That was the last one!” he heard proud Ser Royce brag as he kicked the head of one of the dead men over the snow ground.”I think we can move on.”

“We don’t move on,” His Uncle Benjen declared and made his way over to Gared and Jon. He looked beside himself, his face paler than usual as he helped Gared to his feet.”We go back to the horses and leave this place at once.”

“Aye,” Jon agreed and took Gared’s other arm. Together they helped him to move through the thick snow.

“l can't believe it,” Royce added, his faces alight with excitement. Have you ever seen anything like this?”

Benjen frowned and shook his his head.

“No, never,” he admitted honestly.”But there are tales about such creatures…very old and frightening tales.”

Together they moved forward while Royce was walking behind them.

“Careful…there could be more,” Benjen warned and went ahead while Jon was trying to keep Gared upright. His body was growing limp and no longer moving.

Jon shook him, but it was no use. Carefully he laid his body down, but then he noticed that the man was still breathing. Relief washed over him for a moment, but Royce had to destroy it.

 “What are you doing?” Royce shouted at him from behind.”Get going!”

You could offer to help me, Jon thought with growing anger, but these thoughts of anger were soon forgotten when saw this otherworldly being that should only exists in tales.

It was a pale tall and gaunt creature with flesh as pale as milk that moved towards Royce and buried it’s strange glittering blade into Royce’s back. The young man hadn’t even heard the creature’s movement.

Quickly the creature wrung the blade free and Royce collapsed like a puppet without strings.

Then the creature stood there unmoving and stared at him from the distance, two dark blue eyes, piercing into him, only to disappear into nothingness.

“Jon!” Uncle Benjen’s voice snapped him out of his frozen state. He clutched his blade and stormed away, dragging himself like a madman through the snow to join his Uncle.

“Jon!” he heard his voice.”Where are you? Why is it so cold?”

Then he heard a cry and curse.

His Uncle’s cries sent his pulse racing and he stormed through the darkness, branches slapping into his face, until he finally arrived at the clearing.

“Uncle Benjen!” he cried out, but it was already too late.

One of these otherworldly creatures stood above his Uncle it’s blade coming down to meet his blade.  When the steel met the creature’s sword, there was only a high, thin sound to be heard.

Jon saw his Uncle falter under the weight of the blow, his hand shivering, though Jon was unable to determine if it was lack of strength or just the cold.

Jon wanted to shout out, but also feared to distract his Uncle as they continued to a few exchange blows. It happened all too quickly when he creature found an opening and cut deep into his Uncle’s side.

His Uncle collapsed on the ground, blood steaming in the cold, as Jon moved forward.

“Come!” he beckoned the creature.”Come and fight me!”

The creature stared at him for a moment, before bringing it’s blade down in a savage blow that left Jon gasping for air.

Then the blades met again, before parting.

Again and again he parried the blows, but he was steadily growing weaker, his breath leaving his mouth in quick puffs.

Again the blades touched, but this time the bare steel shattered into a hundred brittle shards, piercing into his skin like a rain of needles.

He felt the blood on his skin as he rolled on the ground in throes of pain.

Half mad, he tried to make out the creature, a blurry shape dancing in front of him.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, but the croaking of a raven pierced the silence.

There were ravens. Hundreds of them.

“Death…Death…Death!” they croaked in unison as they threw themselves on the creature of ice.”Death…Death…Death!”

Jon used the moment to pull himself up and stumbled forward. Blood was running into his eyes and he was unable to see properly.

He needed to move, to get away, to survive…

“Brother!” someone called out to him then.”Brother, come with me!”

Jon whirled around, searching for the owner of the voice and found a man clad in a dark cloak and perched on a strange animal.

Without much of a thought he stumbled over to the man and grasped the stranger’s outstretched hand.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Three-Eyed-Crow will appear next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Rhaella**

**King’s Landing, Second Month of AC 301**

It was not her son who greeted her, but Ser Arthur Dayne. Even the temperate knight seemed marked by grief and age. His hair had an additional number of grey streaks and his expression was tense.

“My Queen,” he greeted her with a weak smile.”I know why you are here, but I don’t think our King is willing to receive visitors.”

“Even his own mother?” she asked firmly.”Tell me, Ser Arthur. What is going on?”

Ser Arthur sighed.

“I can't answer that question, my Queen,” replied and brushed his hair out of his face.”I have long ago lost my ability to understand Rhaegar. I am serving him as best as I can, but I am no wizard. All I know is that your son is grieving for Jon. He hasn’t left his rooms since the news came. The council demanded his presence for several times, but every time he dismissed them rather rudely. I can’t see in his heart, but I think he blames himself…,” Ser Arthur continued to explain and dipped his head as if to apologize that he didn’t have a better answer for her.

“As he should,” she replied, not hiding her emotions.”Sending the boy to the Night’s Watch was wrong and he knew it.”

Ser Arthur looked stunned. He obviously didn't expect her sharp remark.

“My Queen,” he began, trying to find words defend her son.”The King didn’t send the boy there out of cruelty…you should know that he did it to protect him and because he had great hopes for him. Rhaegar envisioned for him to become the next Lord Commander."

“Envisioned?” she asked, unable to hide her bitterness.”That has always been his problem. He envisioning instead of using his reason. Now show me the way.”

“Of course,” Ser Arthur said hesitatingly, but it seemed her rude tone worked wonders.”Follow me.”

She found her son in his library, scrolls and old paper scattered over the tables and the floor. Half burned candles stood everywhere…

“My son,” she greeted him.”I heard you are in need of comfort.”

Rhaegar shrugged his shoulders and turned around. He looked terrible, his face waxen and his eyes red-rimmed.

“Why are you here, mother?”

“To comfort you,” she explained again, but he looked at her as if his mind was somewhere else.

“There is no comfort for me to be found,” he replied and fell back into his chair, his silver-grey hair falling around his gaunt face like a shroud.”I was wrong about Jon.”

She nodded her head in agreement. There was no reason to deny the hard truth.

“It is too late now,” she told him and moved closer, coming to stand before him.”But you need to get a hold of yourself. You are still the King.”

His eyes narrowed in anger and his lips trembled.

“You don’t understand, mother,” he replied weakly.”None of you will ever understand. I saw it…the winter that will never end. I saw death ruling over this city. The things I saw…I cannot put it into words. Some of my visions are blurry, but there is always truth to be found in them, but never once did they fail me like this.”

Rhaella was speechless. She knew that he was fond of prophecy and old stories, but this…

She banished these thoughts away and took a deep breath, before kneeling down before him.

“I don’t understand what you are talking about,” she told him.”These visions you are speaking about…,” she trailed off.

“…become true in some way or another. I saw Lya before I met her. After the incident between Jon and Aegon I dreamed about Jon…I saw him at the Wall, fighting against death and winter. Now he is dead…I didn’t foresee that…and recently the visions have changed again…I don’t know what to make of it.”

Rhaella was speechless, her mouth opening and closing, but no words came over her lips. Her mind was whirling with all this information, trying to make sense of her son’s rambling.

“Do I understand you correctly?” she said and forced the words over her lips.”You sent Jon to the Wall because of this vision of yours? And these become true, you say? Always?”

Rhaegar gave her a helpless look.

“Not always, but most of them do,” he confirmed.”Which is why I am so confused...I am afraid that I misinterpreted something."

“That was of course not the only reason I sent Jon to the Wall,” Rhaegar explained.”I greatly disliked the idea myself, but was meant to protect Jon. He wouldn’t have had a secure place here once Aegon becomes King, but after I had the vision I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was sending him there to fulfill the path that was meant for him…I never thought…,” he trailed off again.

“…that he would die…,” she finished for him and buried her nails into his arm. A painful expression showed on his face, but she didn’t care.

It was like an explosion of emotions that made her lift her hand and slap him straight over the face.

Her knuckles burned and she wanted nothing more than to apologize, but her heart didn’t allow it.

“Mother,” he stuttered, but she was unable to remain silent.

“You murdered my grandson for a vision,” she told him in a trembling voice and touched his cheek.”Did you seduce Jon’s mother for same reasons? Did you ever love her or was that another lie?”

He looked speechless, his face taking an even paler hue. Then anger washed over his face, turning his face into a grimace of rage.

“How can you even say something like that?” he asked.”Of course I loved her …Why do you think I refused Cersei Lannister numerous times?”

Then he sighed and buried his head in the palm of his hand.

A moment of heavy silence followed, before he lifted his head to look at her.

“I know you think me mad…and that is exactly why I have never told anyone about these visions. They would just think of me as another Mad King.”

“You are not like your father,” she countered quickly. “He was cruel and took pleasure in harming people. You are not like that.”

“Can you forgive me?” he asked her then and she knew that he was referring to Jon. Yet his pleading look meant noting to her ailing heart.

“No,” she told him coldly.”No…not now at least… or maybe never. I have to think about it. I don’t know, maybe once you are better. You are burning with a fever. Maybe then you will stop this mad rambling.”

“I understand,” he replied and gave her a tortured look. Then he rose to his feet and gathered his scrolls.

“Leave me now, mother,” he told her.”I will soon leave for Summerhall.”

She wrinkled her brow in confusion.

“Summerhall?” she asked.”Why?”

“You will understand soon enough, mother,” he told her.”Fate awaits me there.”

…

**Aegon**

**Storm’s End, Second Month of AC 301**

“Your lands are beautiful, my friend,” Aegon told Steffon Baratheon. It was his first visit to Storm's End, but he knew the story of it's building from his mother’s favorite song _. Durran’s Defiance._

When he was a young boy his mother always asked of him to play it, despite his lack of talent with the harp. His sister Rhaenys tried to teach him when he was a little boy, but in the end he exchanged the instrument for a sword like most young men do. Yet coming here, filled him with a sad longing for his Lady Mother.

She died two years ago, but for him it felt like an eternity. For him the past was like a dark abyss that was threatening to swallow him up, though the future was also quite frightening.

 _I will be King_ , he knew. _And I will be a better one than my father._

“You are praising the beauty of my lands, yet you are frowning,” Steffon replied and poured Aegon a cup wine.”I bought a gallon of Arbor wine from Lord Redwyne when we were in Highgarden. I know this one is your favorite. Now drink up and tell me what is weighing on your mind?”

Aegon sighed and took a sip.

“I was thinking about this song my mother used to like. Durran’s Defiance. I used to play it for her, but I was never really good at it. I wish Rhaenys joined us…she could have played it for me, but she went to King’s Landing to see father. She was beyond herself with grief over our bastard brother's passing. I love my sister, but at times I don’t understand her. How can she feel sympathy for him when she was a first-hand witness to my mother’s suffering?”

Steffon gave him an understanding smile.

“Our Rhaenys is a gentle girl, but I think it is good that she didn't join us,” he explained and eyed the ornament on his goblet. It showed a stag and a lion.”I don't hold much love for the weeping of women. Now cast away your frown, because I didn’t just call you here this urgently to indulge in wine. My grandfather wrote to me. It seems there is a possibility to put our plans earlier in motion than expected.”

“What did your grandfather write?”

Steffon smiled and placed the goblet back on the polished table.

“That your father is travelling to Summerhall,” he said as if that explained anything. Aegon knew the cursed castle better than anyone. Every year his father dragged him there. He hated this graveyard. Sometimes he wondered if it was this place that made his father lose his mind.

_Once I am King I will tear down this cursed place and build a new seat for my future heir and son. Nothing will remain of this graveyard, but ashes._

“My father has always been obsessed with this place. Why do you think is he going there?”

“Not even my grandfather knows the answer, but what he knows is that your father decided to go there  _alone_. That is our chance to act. In a moon you will be King, isn’t that worth smiling about?”

“I don't understand. I though we are going to wait until he dies from his sickness. I hate my father, but I don’t like he idea of murdering him. I don’t know if I can do that. There are pious men among my father’s friends. They will curse me as a Kingslayer.”

“Where is your pride and where is your determination?" Steffon asked and touched his shoulder."You told me numerous times that he needs to be punished for his deeds. Who can take revenge for your Lady Mother, other than you?”

All Steffon was true, but for all her hatred, his Lady Mother would have never approved of such measures.

He shook his head.

“No, I can’t do that…Let us imprison him instead,” he countered, but Steffon didn’t seem to agree with him.

“I don’t think your father laid a trap for us. He and Ser Arthur are not on good terms since his bastard died, not to mention…my grandfather had the impression that the King is beyond himself with grief. It seems he is losing his mind.”

"My father lost his mind many years ago when he ran off with his bastard's mother,"  Aegon countered.

Steffon chuckled.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. The bastard is dead and we need to plan your future. You said you don’t want to be known as a Kingslayer, but that is why my grandfather thinks we should act now and make quick work of your father. Besides, the way I invasion his death would be as an act of justice. He will be the sacrifice to give rebirth to House Targaryen.”

Aegon was utterly confused by his friend’s words.

“I don’t understand,” he replied, brushing an annoying lock of silver hair out of his face.”Please explain yourself?”

Steffon called for one of the servants. Then he whispered something in the boy’s ear, before sending him off.

“Gladly, my friend,” he said.”I asked you to bring your dragon egg, didn’t I?"

Of course he did, but it didn’t explain anything. The egg was beautiful, not doubt about that, but it would never hatch, no matter how convinced his father is about his delusions.

 _Your are his promised prince and heir_ , his mother had told him shortly before her death. _You are his promised prince._

“I brought it with me like you asked of me,” he replied, but still confused.”You can take a look at if if you wish…,” he trailed off when he saw a women entering the solar.

Daenerys was beautiful, Margaery was beautiful, his sister was beautiful and even his Lady Mother in her sickened state had been beautiful, but this woman took his breath away.

Her hair was the color of burnished copper and her skin pale, unblemished by time an age. She was nearly as tall as Aegon, her slender body every man's dream.

"Lady Melisandre of Asshai,” Steffon introduced the exotic lady with a knowing smile.

“My Lady…,” Aegon stuttered and dipped his head in greeting.”I am pleased to meet you,”

The Lady dropped a deep curtsy, her crimson lips curled into a seductive smile.

“And I am pleased to meet you my Prince, you are the one I have been searching for… _our promised prince_.”

Aegon didn’t know what to say, but her beauty was enrapturing.

“I thank you for your kind words,” he replied and flushed.”But I don’t know anything about this beyond the mad ramblings of my father.”

The woman smiled and bridged the distance between them in a swirl of red silk.

Then he felt her warm hand gracing his cheek.

“Have no fear, my Prince,” she whispered to him like a mother to her babe.”I am here to help you.”

He could only smile.

“I see.”

…

**Daenerys**

**Sunspear, Third Month of AC 301**

Nobody here wept for Rhaegar’s cursed son other Dany, Rhaenys and Rhaella. While the rest of the court dressed in vibrant colors Dany chose the darkest garment she possessed. Dany never liked black, but the raven that came to inform them about Jon's disappearance beyond the Wall made her want to born all her other clothes. She only refrained from doing so because Doran Martell would have declared her mad.

 _Only men of the Night’s Watch wear black,_ Rhaenys had told her between tears but even wearing black gave her no comfort.

They think Jon is dead, but she didn't want to believe that until they bring his corpse before her. Bastard or not, he is her brother's son. He deserves a proper burial, not that he is in need of that, but still...

 _The gods don't listen_ , she thought but still came here in the Sept to lighten the candles.

It was a simple thing, once built for Princess Arianne’s mother, but hardly used. None of the Martell’s were particular strong believers in the Faith in the Seven, nor was Dany, but at least nobody came here to bother her.

At times Dany even expected them to celebrate, but maybe they were only doing it when she was not present.

She wanted to scratch out their eyes. Doran Martell and his whole court can go to hell, for all she cared.

“Sister,” her brother’s voice snapped her out of her dark thoughts.”Sister.”

Dany brushed her tears away and pulled herself to her feet.

“What brings you here, brother?” she asked, making her way towards him with clumsy steps.”I have been lightening the candles.”

He moved towards her and steadied her. She felt light-headed and was thankful for his helps.

“Have you been staying here all day long?” he asked and brushed her hair out of her face.”When have you last eaten?”

She didn’t know. She forgot about that too.

“I don’t know,” she whispered and allowed him to lead her out of the Sept out to the gardens. The sun was too bright and made her eyes burn painfully.”Has mother returned from King’s Landing? Is that why you are here?"

“Aye, she has,” Viserys told her with a long-drawn sigh as he led her along the arched corridor leading back to the palace.”She asked me to find you. She brings news from King’s Landing and from our brother the King.”

The mention of the cursed city and her brother made her blood boil, but her heart longed for her mother. She had left shortly after hearing the news and traveled to King’s Landing to comfort her brother.

“I see,” she replied weakly and dragged herself up the whirling steps, her breath labored.”I see.”

When Viserys opened the door her mother and husband were seated at a table, sipping wine and speaking in hushed whispers.

Her mother, like herself was still dressed in black, though her dress was much more elegant, meant for someone to travel to the capital.

“Mother,” she said and rushed into her arms.

“Shssh,” Rhaella whispered and placed a soft kiss on her brow.”Let me take a look at you, my child.”

Dany obeyed and lifted her head. Her mother gave her a soft smile and brushed her hands over her cheeks.

“You look thin,” she remarked with a sad smile.”Have you been eating?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, almost automatically.”I have no taste for food.”

“No taste for food?” her husband asked, his face guarded.”You are eating like a bird. Look at you…you are a walking corpse. This madness needs to end.”

The old Dany would have lashed back a sharp comment, but she felt no strength to do so.

“I am not mad,” she said instead.”I am grieving for my nephew. I am well aware that he was not liked in your home, but I grew up with him. I hardly knew Princess Elia, but I also shed tears for her when she died. Allow me to do the same for my nephew.”

“Grieving is one thing, but you are neglecting your duties,” Quentyn complained to her mother and rose to his feet.”She is hiding in the Sept all day long, leaving our son with the nursemaid. What else can it be other than a sudden bout of madness?”

“I am not mad,” she defended herself again, her voice snapping with it's old strength.

Her mother enclosed her shoulder and gave her husband an understanding look.”I know madness when I see it and my daughter has none of it. I know the Dornish like to ignore my grandson’s existence, but he meant a lot to us. You cannot expect us to simply forget about it and go on with our life. Even the King is beyond himself with grief.”

 _Good_ , Dany thought. _It was you and Aegon, who sent him to his death, brother._

Quentyn seemed surprised, but tried to hide it behind an understanding nod.

“I see,” he said then.”I wasn’t aware….,” he continued, but her mother cut him off.

“That we care for our own?” she asked, but then realized her impoliteness and dipped her head in an apologetic gesture.”Forgive my sharp words, I am not myself. Would you mind if I speak alone with my daughter.

Quentyn sighed and left the room.

“Thank you,” she told her mother and settled herself in one of he cushioned chairs. Her mother poured her a goblet of wine and handed it to Dany.

The taste was sweet and foreign, but it brought back her strength.

“What are you doing to yourself?” she asked and smoothed her hand over Dany’s head.”I am gone for a few weeks and you are starving yourself to death. And is that true? You are neglecting your boy?”

 

“It is sometimes hard for me to look at Aemon, but the nursemaid I chose is hand-picked and I regularly sleep in his room,” she admitted, trying to hold her tears back.”Looking at him should comfort me, but it hurts. You know why.”

Her mother swallowed hard.

“It will get easier,” her mother assured her.”We all have to bear our burden and your boy needs you. Jon would agree with me if he was here.”

“But he isn’t here,” she snapped back.

Her mother nodded her head.”Aye, but your boy is here.”

“Did you tell the same to Rhaegar?” she asked, speaking he name of her brother without the kingly title. It felt strange and foreign to her lips.”Did it help?”

“I don’t think he understood me. He was not himself when I was speaking to him. I was lucky that he received me at all. He fears for your brother’s sanity and so does his council.”

“They may rot in hell,” she muttered, no longer holding back.”Without them our family would be whole.”

“You are right,” her mother admitted.”But keep that to yourself. We are guests here in Dorne and you have to think of your boy.”

She bit back another sob and brushed her tears away.

“I know, but that doesn’t make it any easier, mother.”

“I know,” her mother replied and placed another kiss on her brow.”I know that better than you can know. I was after all your father’s Queen.”

 _Of course_ , Dany thought and felt like a fool. She only knew her father from stories, but that her mother once led a life of constant cruelty and terror seemed like a bad nightmare from the past.

_She is right. I need to get a hold of myself._

“Forgive me, mother,” she replied.”I forgot what heavy burden you had to carry through all these years.”

Her mother sighed.

”Be happy that you didn’t have to live with your father. I killed him and the gods may curse me for it, but that was probably for the best.”

“Yet the realm is still torn,” Dany remarked sadly.

Her mother gave her a knowing smile and rose to her feet, pulling on her arm.

“That is the way of things,” she told her.”But now enough of politics. I want to see my grandson…I want to know how much he has grown.”

Dany nodded and rose to her feet.

Together they made their way to her private chambers, where she kept Aemon’s crib.

“Princess,” the nursemaid greeted them with a smile.”The Prince is sleeping.”

“That is no bother to me,” her mother replied and Dany gave the nursemaid a gentle smile.”You heard my mother. You may take a rest. I have overburdened you in the last days.”

A surprised look crossed over the young woman’s features.

“I am pleased to serve you, Princess,” she replied and left them.

“I have missed you,” her mother whispered as she regarded the boy. Then her eyes widened as she beheld the precious gift Rhaenys gave to her son. When Dany asked her why she would give Aemon something as precious as this she only answered that she recalled Dany's interest in dragons.

“Is that?” her mother asked, her purple eyes filled with surprise.”Is that one Rhaegar's dragon eggs?”

“Rhaenys gifted it to Aemon,” she explained and let her fingers play over the onyx surface and red ruby vines.”Though I doubt it will ever hatch. It is stone and nothing more. Beautiful to behold, but still dead.”

Her mother gave her a silent nod.

“Aye, you are right. It was a pretty dream and nothing more.”

…

**Rhaegar**

**Summerhall, Third Month of AC 301**

An endless inky sky spread above him as Rhaegar wandered languidly through the ruins that were once the spacious Summer Palace of his family. It was here where Aegon the Unlikely tried to bring back the glory of the Targaryen Dynasty, but nearly ended it when a terrible swallowed up the once beautiful palace.

It was the day Rhaegar was born; a day of doom and rebirth.

Upon Aegon’s birth the sky was bleeding stars, but that had not been enough for him. His son’s birth rendered Elia unable to conceive again and thus he decided to find another woman to birth his third child. His choice fell soon upon Lyanna Stark, the wild beauty from the North who disguised herself as a mysterious knight to partake in the Tourney of Harrenhall to defend the honor of one of her father’s bannermen. He had seen her long before in one of his many visions, but he was only sure when he spotted her among the guests seated at the first night of the tourney. He played his harp and made her weep. Back then he didn’t know that she was the mysterious King. The realization came only later when his father sent him to find the daring knight.

There was no other girl like her. She insulted him, the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms to his face, not caring that his father might torture and murder her if he ever beheld her rude words. She was the first person to tell him the truth to the face.

All his life he had spent around flatterers, who smiled at him while plotting against him. Lies and false smiles was all he knew, but then this brave girl appeared before his eyes.

Upon the day he wed Elia he told himself that he would love the beautiful Dornish Princess, but even that was nothing more than a convenient lie he told himself to make it easier. Sure, Elia was kind, gentle and he knew that she tried to love him, despite his gloomy character, but it was never meant to be.

He never loved Elia and she never loved him, not truly. Rhaegar was sure that she would have been much happier if she wed Baelor Hightower or one of her many suitors that courted her in her youth. All of them would have been a better choice than him.

In the end he failed both of them, Elia and Lyanna. Elia because he was unable to love her and Lyanna because he was unable to give their son the life he deserved.

 _You would have my head if you knew what I did_ , Lya, Rhaegar was sure and smiled sadly as he saw the old oak tree growing among the ruins. After their marriage Rhaegar took Lyanna here to show her these ruins and she climbed into the crown of this very tree. Even now he saw her sitting there in her blue dress and disheveled hair, smiling down at him.

 

 _I am an utter failure_ , he thought as the wind howled through the trees and made the leaves whisper. _I should have never been a King._

He didn’t have the ruthlessness this office demanded. People like Tywin Lannister were meant to rule and drench the world in blood, but not him. Even now he was able to remember the faces of the men he had executed. They were his ghosts and the blood price to win his crown.

Rhaegar regretted their deaths. Jon Arryn, who rebelled against his Mad Father to protect his wards. Even proud Hoster Tully, who made use of the moment to make a grab for power and his cousin Robert, who nearly slew him at the Trident. 

Rhaegar the Silver Prince, they called him and cheered for him when he won the tourney. They loved him, but even this beauty was gone.

The man reflected back at him in the looking glass every morning was not this Silver Prince, but a stranger. His face was a ruin of age, his hair grey and faded. Even his life was used up.

Rhaegar knew it long before the Maester that he will die, but only now he was sure how it will happen.

“Father,” a familiar snapped him out of his deep thoughts and only confirmed the irrevocable truth.

Rhaegar turned around and found Aegon smiling at him through the darkness.

Hidden beneath the anger was Elia’s smile, but even she grew bitter at him in her last years. He might have refused Tywin Lannister’s daughter, but Elia and his marriage remained a lie to keep the peace and a way to escape another marriage. She knew it and made him pay for it. For hurting their children and for hurting her.

Aegon was the result of that.

He exhaled deeply and smiled at his son and his companions, who came to murder him and take his crown.

“Aegon,” he said.”It is time, isn’t it?”

Momentary confusion showed on his face, but it wasn’t enough to wash away the anger.

“Spare me your talk about fate and destiny, Father,” he replied angrily while one of his companions pulled the hood of his cloak down.”It is time to pay for your crimes.”

“My crimes are plenty,” Rhaegar admitted.”How will it be done? What will be the appropriate punishment for someone like me?”

“You will die by fire, your Grace,” Steffon Baratheon, Aegon’s friends added with a brilliant smile.

It was no surprise to him to find Steffon Baratheon among his murderers. It seems Rhaegar was no longer of use to Tywin Lannister. Rhaegar did after all the unforgivable, he refused him his greatest ambition. To wed his daughter Cersei. Now Aegon was meant to become Tywin's puppet. 

Just looking at Steffon Rhaegar knew that he was all his grandfather’s creature.

Not that would be much of a use to tell him. Aegon would laugh off such a notion.

Rhaegar laughed too.

“My father would have liked that,” Rhaegar replied quietly, pulled his cloak from his shoulders and moved to stand before his son.”Watching people burn to death was always his favorite past-time.”

 _The future of House Targaryen_ , the Mad King had called his grandson when he was presented to him.

 _May he be a better King than me_ , he thought then and nodded his head in acceptance, searching the shadowed faces of his executioners.

Aegon grimaced at that.

“I am not like grandfather,” he declared haughtily.”Your death will not only be a punishment, but also a sacrifice that will bring back the past glory of House Targaryen.”

“And so it shall be,” a stranger’s voice added. It was the soft voice of a woman Rhaegar didn’t know, but heard about.”R'hllor be praised."

She was tall and incredible beautiful. Her hair was red like crimson, her eyes like two shining rubies.

She first smiled at Aegon and then at Rhaegar.

“They say the cleanest death is fire, my King,” she said and pulled down her cloak.”I saw yours many years ago in the flames, but do not be afraid. Your sacrifice will not be without reward. Your sacrifice will herald the rebirth of your house.”

Rhaegar could only laugh.

“So did I, my Lady,” Rhaegar confirmed and was not surprised to find one of the dragon eggs he gifted to each his children in the Lady's arms.”But my visions are not as clear as yours, because I saw no dragons.”

The Red Lady moved closer and touched his cheek. Her skin was hot like a brazier.

“Rhallor only shows us what he needs us to see,” she assured him, a satisfied smile washing over his lips.”But be assured, the flames never lie.”

He granted her a sad smile in return.

“I hope you are right, my Lady.”

**…**

**Jon**

**Beyond the Wall, Third Month of AC 301**

_Jon walked through the darkness of the woods, the moon glow the only light in the endless darkness. Clumsily he stumbled over the whirling roots of the trees that seemed to only grow taller as he continued._

_Where am I, he wondered and felt fear rising up inside him. Last he recalled the Wall, but there was something familiar about this place._

_I need to find my way back, he told himself and moved forward. It felt like half an eternity until he finally reached the edge of the woods. There he found an old oak tree and a muddy trail leading up to what he assumed was once a hold fast or castle._

_Fire, Jon thought as he regarded the blackened carcass of the ruins. Fire destroyed this place._

_Slowly Jon walked up the whirling trail, the wind howling around him and making the leaves whisper._

_He exhaled deeply and then he stepped into the ruins. He found broken windows, collapsed walls and shards of painted glass that were melted into strange shapes._

_This fire happened a long time ago, Jon knew as he saw the thick canopy of plants and vines meandering through the ruins. Long before my birth, but why is this place so familiar?_

_He didn’t know why he even cared, but the answer burned inside him and made him move forward, searching through the darkness._

_He followed a long corridor that led him to a large hall that might harbor the entirety of Dragonstone._

_The Great Hall, he guessed and found large hearths lining the walls on each side. Whoever resided here was rich and powerful._

_Yet it didn’t answer his question and thus he continued onward. He crossed a dozen of other rooms all empty and blacker than the one before, until he found his way out to what he assumed was once a spacious garden, though a silence reined in this place that gave it an eerie sadness._

 

_“This place is like a graveyard,” he whispered to himself.”This place is full of death.”_

_“Death…Death…Death!” a raven croaked._

_It belonged to a bird perched on the twig of a tree._

_It was a raven, but there was something strange about the animal. The crow had three black eyes, piercing him through the darkness._

_“King...King…King…!” the raven added and flapped it's wings, before soaring into the air._

_“Come…Come…Come!” the crow croaked again, as if the creature was able to read his mind._

_Wait for me, Jon thought and his cloak got caught in the twig of a tree. It took him a moment to free himself, before he hurried after the bird._

_Soon he found the bird again, perched on a broken wall that once marked some sort of an outer courtyard._

_“Father…King….Father….King!” the raven croaked and cocked it's head towards a group of shadowed figures assembled around a large pyre made of wood._

_The only speck of light was a woman, dressed in crimson silk._

_She was singing in old Valyrian, but the distant made it hard for him to understand what she spoke._

_“Death…King…Father!” the raven croaked again, an ominous feeling washing over Jon as he made his way over to get a closer look at the spectacle playing out before his very eyes._

_I am fool, he thought and shuddered at the sight before him. There bound to the pyre was a man aged beyond his years. I am an utter fool. Father, I didn’t even recognize him._

_“Death!” the raven croaked.”Death!"_

_Jon didn’t care about the bird’s croaking and stormed forward, brushing aside the foliage blocking his path._

_“Father!” he shouted as he wanted to brush these people aside, but he walked right threw them.”Father!”_

_Then he froze in confusion._

_What is going on? Is this a dream?_

_“Death!" the raven croaked again and one of the men stepped forward._

_Jon froze, when he recognized the silver hair and purple eyes. Aegon._

_He carried a grim smile, while the woman in the silken_   _dress continued to sing in slurred High Valyrian._

_Soon the others joined their torches and the flames started to wash over the wooden pyre._

_As a young boy Jon burned himself terribly. He still had a scar on his arm, but his father remained immovable like a statue._

_There was no crying or weeping to be heard from his father’s mouth._

_He only smiled peacefully as the flames swallowed him up._

_Jon had never seen him happier._

When Jon woke he found only darkness and his body drenched in sweat. Especially, the pain in his face was bad. It felt like small needles twisting into his skin and he tasted blood in his mouth. When he looked at his hands he also recognized that they were bandaged.

It was the work of those creatures of ice. _The Others_ , like in the old tales. They should be nothing more than a fairy tale, but Jon saw them with his own eyes and still felt the cold on his skin. 

They are all dead now, he was sure. Uncle Benjen, Gared, proud Waymar Royce.

“Why am I still alive?” he asked himself. His voice sounded like strained glass, indicating that he had been resting here for a long time.

_Who saved me and why?_

_I have to find out_ , he told himself and pulled himself up, before he tried to find his way through the darkness. 

 _Father_ , he immediately thought and recalled the nightmare. _He saw his Father die among the flames._

 _It can’t be true_ , he thought as he walked along the wall, trying to reach the opening lightened by a pale sheen of light.

With effort he pulled himself upwards to crawl through the opening only to end up into another murky cavernous room full darkness.

“It seems your fever is gone. The Three-Eyed-Crow will be pleased,” a strange voice greeted him. Jon snapped his head in the direction of the owner of the voice and beheld and even stranger sight.

The person looked like a girl, but it had the voice of a woman, high and sweet with a strange music in it like none he had ever heard before.

Jon was surprised, but he was also relieved that he finally found someone to speak to.

“The Three-Eyed-Crow,” he repeated the strange title.”Who is that and where did you bring me? Where are my companions?”

The girl moved closer, her golden eyes glinting in the darkness like two polished coins.

“Your companions didn’t make it. The Others killed them and would have killed you too, but the Three-Eyed-Crow tasked us to save you, Prince Jaehaerys.”

“I am no Prince,” he corrected the girl.”And who are you? Are you serving this Three-Eyed-Crow?”

"The First Men called us children," the girl explained and crept closer."We serve the Tree-Eyed-Crow, though he also serves us. He protects us from the Others.”

“You know about them?”

The girl nodded her head in confirmation.

“We know them and they know us. The Three-Eyed-Crow knows even more. The past, the present and the future. He knew that you would come to us.”

“You knew,” he repeated and felt anger stir inside him.”If you knew, why didn’t you save the others?”

The girl’s gaze remained unyielding.

“They were not important. The Three-Eyed-Crow told us to save you and bring you here. He has been waiting for you for a long time, Prince Jaehaerys.”

“Waiting for me?” he asked and couldn’t hide his bitterness. Then he swallowed hard, trying to forget the pain inside him. He should have perished with his Uncle, but here he was still alive.

“Yes, he has been waiting for you,” the girl repeated.”Did the Others harm your ears?”

Jon gave the girl a tight smile.

“Then I will be pleased to meet him.”

“Then follow me, my Prince,” the small girl replied led him through the darkness. On trembling feet he followed after the girl as he took in the surroundings. The walls of the cave were made of earth, thick tree roots twisting through stone and soil.

The wood itself was white. _A weirwood tree._

Somewhere along the path the creature lightened a torch and led him down another narrow path, littered with bones belonging to all kind of different animals. Jon spotted the skulls of humans and animals alike, as they passed.

At last followed another steep path until he entered a large cave.

A pale lord in ebony finery sat dreaming in a tangled nest of roots. His body was skeletal and his clothes so rotted that it gave him the appearance of a living corpse. His skin was as pal and there was an ugly bloody stain that covered his neck and cheek.

His heart was drumming quickly as he stepped closer. 

“Prince Jaehaerys!” the child announced, her voice echoing back at them through the cave.

“Welcome,” the pale lord greeted him, his voice thin and dry like cracked paper.”I have been waiting for you, My Prince.”

“Who are you and why did you save me? And more importantly…How do you know my name?”

“I have been watching you,” the pale lord explained softly.”I watched your birth and I know of your suffering. Once you dreamed of a precious Princess to name your own, but then your Father commanded you to take the Black. I also once loved a woman of unearthly beauty.”

Jon gritted his teeth.

“You know about Daenerys?”

“I do,” he confirmed with a soft chuckle.”But to answer your question…In my time they called me Bloodraven, for the bloody mark on my face."

“How is it possible that you are still alive? Why did you save me?”

“I told you. I have been waiting for you a long time. Your birth has been heralded by many a mouth, but it is worth nothing if you remain untrained. Winter is coming and you have already met the enemy. When the Long Night comes they will become a terror upon humanity. Your Father knew this and that is why he sent you here.”

Jon felt like slapped.

“He knew?”

“He didn’t know everything. He is not like me,” the Three-Eyed-Crow replied.”But in the end he fulfilled his purpose.”

The nightmare came back to him in that moment.

“No,” he stuttered.”What kind of purpose?”

“To bring dragons back into the world,” the pale Lord explained.”Your father accomplished that. See for yourself.”

Then the roots and vines moved aside and revealed a dozen of more children, but it was not their sight that left him flabbergasted, but the small creature carried by the children.

It was a small dragon, graced with green and golden scales.  It lifted it's head as Jon’s gaze fell upon it and shrieked as if to greet him.

_Green and gold, the dragon has the same coloring as my egg._

He pulled his gaze away and inclined his head to look at the pale Lord.

“How?” he asked, in a trembling voice.

The pale Lord chuckled, though his voice was not completely devoid of sadness.

”Only death can pay for life, my Prince.”

…

**Daenerys**

**Sunspear, Third Month of AC 301**

The cool gust of wind blowing through her window made her tremble, but it were the cries of her boy that woke her from her slumber Still half asleep Dany pulled herself up and pulled on a robe.

 _A quiet child_ , her mother liked to call him, but even such a child can have bad days.

Not wasting another thought she pulled the door open and stepped inside.

“Gods be good…!” it escaped her and she nearly stumbled over the carpet beneath her feet.

It couldn’t be true but there was her squealing son and this small creature perched on the roof of his crib.

A dragon, she knew when she saw the scales, the wings and spiky thin tail. It was so beautiful to behold that she was barely able to breath.

The small dragon was completely black and only the eyes were red like shiny rubies.

“I don’t want to harm you,” she told the small creature and stepped towards the crib.

The dragon’s ruby eyes followed her at every step, though she saw no hostility in them, only curiosity.

Her son finally stopped crying as she lifted him out of the bed and kissed his curled head. She kept on rocking him in her arms as she stepped closer towards the dragon.

Then the dragon cocked his head and spread his wings as she stretched her free hand out to touch his head.

The dragon chirped almost like a bird and rubbed his head against her hand. His skin felt hot, as if aflame.

 _Dragons are fire made flesh_ , her brother Rhaegar had once told her when she was a little girl and showed her the mighty dragon skulls lining the throne room in the Red Keep.

It was then that she saw it through the opened window. The sky was bleeding from a bloody wound.

Her brother’s dream finally came true. For the first time in a century the air was filled with the song of a dragon.

...


	5. Chapter 5

**Jon**

**Beyond the Wall, Ninth Month of AC 301**

The cold was creeping into his bones, despite the thick pelt wrapped around his shoulders. Six moons in the wilderness and Jon had grown used to the hardships of winter, but the cold was still hard to endure.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and scanned his surroundings. Fresh snow had fallen over night and the fire he had stirred to life before going to sleep was now nothing more than a simmering flame. Sleeping was not the right word for what he was doing during the night. _Warging_ , the Three-Eyed-Crow he called it, though it was still hard to accept this new part of his reality.

The familiar taste of fresh blood in his mouth helped to remind him of the truth. A dragon was reborn to the world and the gracious beast belonged to him.

As a young boy he dreamed of having his own dragon, but that his childhood dream would eventually become true was not something he expected to happen.

Brushing those thoughts away he rose to his feet and started to stretch his limps. The constant cold made it easy to become lethargic and to give oneself up to exhaustion.

Carefully, he shouldered his few belongings and let his gaze sweep over the canopy of the trees. The thick tree crowns made it almost impossible to see the sky, but that turned out to be unnecessary when he heard his dragon’s roar.

The sound of it made his heart skip a beat and a moment later he heard a rustling noise sweeping through the tree tops.

“There you are hiding!” he greeted the gracious beast. His dragon Daerion, nearly as big as a bear, sat perched in the crown of a mighty Ironwood tree, his golden eyes glinting like two polished coins of gold.

In the span of six moons his dragon had grown madly, but that was no surprise. The gracious beast spent most of his days hunting and eating. First he brought rabbits, squirrels and smaller animals, but now it was not uncommon if his dragon killed a bear or a stag.

For Jon this proved quite convenient. It meant that they always had enough meat, though Jon was growing indifferent to the taste of it. Yet even the meat was leagues better than the pine broth the Children of the Forest liked to eat. Just thinking of it made him want to gag.

.Releasing a colourful flame into the air the dragon landed on the snowy ground dappled with leaves from the nearby trees. Along the way he ruffled the tree tops and broke off a few twigs, but appeared otherwise unharmed.

"Careful," Jon chided Daerion and stepped closer, smoothing his hand over the rough surface of the dragon’s head.

The dragon shrieked and opened his mouth, revealing a dead animal caught between his sharp teeth. It was the corpse of a stag and already half burned, but Jon stopped caring about the state of his food a long time ago.

“Good work!” he complimented Daerion and moved his hand down the beast’s neck. Promptly, the beast rubbed his head against his arm.”You brought us a fine meal. The last one, before I have to return to the cave.”

The dragon shrieked again and hurled the dead animal to the ground, before lying down on the ground and curling his tail around his body. The snow around him steamed like cooking water and white fume was leaving his nostrils.

_He is tired_ , Jon knew and built a fresh cook fire. As always, Daerion realized his need for warmth and released a breath of flames on the heap of wood.

Unsheathing his dagger Jon started to cut the animal apart, before roasting it over the fire. He ate quickly, forgetting the bloody and fatty taste of the meat. It filled the stomach and that was all he needed to survive.

The rest of the meat he left for Daerion. Swiftly, the dragon roasted and devoured the meat until there was nothing more left than burned bones.

Sated Jon prepared to return to the cave, the stars his only guide.

The Children of the Forest showed him how to read the stars and thus it was not all too hard to find the right direction.

Hours passed as he continued to make his way through the high snow, Daerion circling above his head to look out for potential enemies.

And while Jon had yet to encounter another one these Others he knew they were there, lingering in the darkness _. It is only a matter of time until they show their faces_ , he was convinced.

Relief washed over him when he finally saw the familiar crown of the great weirwood tree rising in the distance. As if able to read his mind, the dragon roared and blew flames into the air.

"I can see the tree!" Jon exclaimed and smiled. He didn’t miss the presence of the Three-Eyed Crow or the pine broth, but he was looking forward to sleep in a warm cave.

Waiting for him at the entrance to the cave he found one of the Children. They all looked the same to him, small of stature and golden-eyed like his dragon.

"Welcome back, my Prince," the Child greeted him."Our Master expected your return."

"Of course he did," Jon replied and sighed deeply.

Warm air met his skin as he stepped inside the cave and followed the child through the darkness. The sharp smell of weirwood sap filled his nostrils when he entered the large cavernous room, housing the great weirwood tree.

Perched amidst the trees and vines, he found the Three-Eyed-Crow, his pale hair fluttering in the breeze rustling through the cave.

"I expected your return, Prince Jaehaerys," the Three-Eyed-Crow said, his soft voice almost drowned out by the whispering of the Children present in the room."Your training is almost over.”

"Six moons," Jon repeated, his voice laced with distrust."Six moons I spent alone in the wilderness. I trained how to slip into Daerion’s mind and I returned as promised. Will you now finally tell me the reason you called me here?”

"You know the reason," the Three-Eyed-Crow replied. „To fight the Others was your purpose from the moment you were conceived. Your father called it fate and prophecy, but I was the one who planted the visions into his mind. His actions were his own, but I was the one to plant the seeds.”

"That can't be true!" Jon shouted a feeling of burning rage stirring inside him."That was you?"

"I understand your rage, my Prince," he began, but Jon was unable to remain silent. The feeling of rage was too overwhelming.

"You understand nothing!" he shouted out pouring out all the pent-up rage."All these people died because you drove my father to madness.”

“Without my prodding you wouldn’t be here. You are my creation.”

"I am not your creation!" he protested and wanted to do nothing more than to pack his belongings and leave, though he had no idea where to go. Returning to the Wall was one possibility, but Aegon would only see him as a threat if he revealed his dragon to the world.”I am not yours to command.”

"It matters not," the Three-Eyed-Crow continued and ignored his words of protest. „You are now ready to leave the cave to face your first task.”

"My first task?" he asked, still trembling with rage. ”Another year running around in the wilderness?”

“The Wildling Clans are assembling under the banner of their newly-chosen King-Beyond-the-Wall. Your first task is to help them pass the Wall. “

Jon didn’t know what to say. Even with a dragon it would be hard to cross the Wall. He also doubted the Northmen or his brother would appreciate such a deed.

_“_ How?” he asked.”How can it be done?”

“I can’t answer that question, but I have a gift for you.”

“A Gift?” Jon asked.

“Yes, my Prince,” the Three-Eyed-Crow replied almost lovingly. As if conjured one of the Children emerged from a hidden opening on the opposing side of the cave.”A most precious gift, worthy of a Prince of House Targaryen.”

Yet Jon saw no precious gift. In his arms the Child carried a worn-out scabbard, covered in dirt and dust.

“Take it, my Prince,” the Child offered.”It is yours.”

Carefully, Jon picked the scabbard from the Child’s arms and pulled the blade free. The sight of the blade made him gasp in wonder and shock.

“Valyrian Steel…,” Jon muttered as he smoothed his gloved hand over the smoky surface of the blade.”It can’t be…”

“But it is,” the Three-Eyed-Crow insisted and chuckled.”Dark Sister…he sword once wielded by Queen Visenya Targaryen, Aemon the Dragonknight and myself. Now it is yours, my Prince.”

**…**

**Daenerys**

**Sunspear, Tenth Month of AC 301**

Dany made no attempt to change her position. Jaehaeron’s mighty black wings spread around her protectively while her son continued playing with the wooden dragon Viserys gifted him not long ago. Her brother always held a strange liking for woodcarving and often gifted his artworks to family members. Dany left a whole collection on Dragonstone.

_Maybe Queen Margaery will put the collection to good use and gift it to her little girl._

Dany might not hold much love for Aegon, but the Queen and her little girl do not deserve he hatred she once harboured for Aegon. Now she felt only emptiness.

She didn’t know why, but it felt as if her latest loss made her go numb. Her brother Rhaegar apparently grew mad and killed himself, though there were rumours that told a different story. Dany only believed what her Lady Mother told her.

_Rhaegar was not himself before he left_ , she had told her. _But I don’t think he would be able to kill himself._

Not that it mattered. Soon Aegon will be crowned King and she knew he expected of her to bow down and kiss his feet.

Not that she had any intention to refuse. For Aemon’s sake she had to accept the humiliation.

“Look!” Aemon giggled happily and pointed at the dragon, sending plumes of fire into the air as the men baring the banner of House Targaryen approached. They were led by two members of the Kingsguard, though both men were strangers to her.

Yet she knew what purpose brought them here.

To take the dragon, she knew and smiled at them. They should have come earlier, but Doran Martell always found an excuse to refuse his new King. Prince Doran’s actions had confused Dany at first, but then she began to understand that Prince Doran liked the idea of having a dragon just as much as her nephew King Aegon. Surprisingly, her nephew didn’t rush the confiscation of her dragon and six moons had passed without the announced visit from the King’s men.

Now they are here, but Dany had no idea how they intended to take the dragon. Jaehaeron had grown to the size of a horse and his flames were hotter than a brazier.

“Princess Daenerys,” one of the leaders greeted her and lowered his head in reverence. He was very tall, golden-haired and wore a snow-white cloak draped around his broad shoulders. The man next to him was even taller and graced with a weather-worn face, framed by dark-brown hair. “My name is Ser Martyn Brax and this is Ser Thomas Estermont.”

The man spoke with a Westerland accent, but that didn’t surprise her. It seems Steffon Baratheon has already started to push his grandfather’s men into important positions. The thought gave her a hint of satisfaction, because she doubted Prince Doran liked the growing influence of the Lord of the Stormlands.

“What can I do for you, Ser Brax?” she asked, feigning ignorance and smoothed her hand over Jaehaeron’s scaled head. As usual he bent his head and nuzzled her neck.

“We are here to retrieve the dragon…,” Ser Brax declared, his face pale like snow. Ser Estermont seemed to share his surprise, his hand touching the pommel of his sword.”But…”

“…But we didn’t expect him to be this big,” Ser Estermont finished for the other man, his grey eyes full of awe as he regarded the dragon.

“Jaehaeron has a healthy appetite. He eats three times a day and could easily devour a human. I told Prince Doran to tell your King that it is a folly to take a dragon from his owner.”

“Prince Aemon is a child,” Ser Brax insisted stubbornly.”The King is only thinking of the boy’s safety.”

The dragon made his disagreement known and bared his sharp teeth, his ruby eyes glinting in the dying sun.

“Well, Jaehaeron disagrees with your assessment, Ser Brax,” she countered daringly.”So much for the King’s plans.”

“The Maester gave us a potion that will be put into the dragon’s meal,” Ser Brax explained proudly.

“You may try, but Jaehaeron is much smarter than most humans,” she explained and smoothed her hand over the dragon’s neck.”Prince Doran’s Maester tried to do the same, but Jaehaeron didn’t touch a single piece of meat. Besides, he is not dependent on our food…he knows how to hunt. I fear your idea will prove fruitless, Ser Brax.”

“Then we will force you to chain him,” Ser Brax grumbled unhappily.”I have enough of these games. We are here on the King’s order!”

The man’s tone woke her defiance.

“I will not chain the dragon,” she declared loudly and rose to her feet, hoisting Aemon up into her arms. The dragon next to her stirred to life and straightened himself behind her.”Tell your King that I will come to his coronation, but that I have no intention to hand over my son’s dragon. One dragon ought to be enough for his Grace.”

“He is the King!” Ser Brax repeated, his eyes growing wide as the dragon lowered his head towards him. Yet he proved a fool and dared to free his blade.”And you ought to obey the King’s will!”

Within the blink of a moment the dragon’s hot breath engulfed him and left nothing more than a heap of ash and bones. The proud knight wasn’t even able to cry out for help.

Dany had no intention to kill him nor did she have full control over the dragon. She warned them and they didn’t listen. The dragon didn’t care about Kings and formality. He perceived a raised sword as an act of enmity and reacted to it.

“Gods!” Ser Estermont exclaimed and fell to his knees, his grey eyes full of fear.”Gods!”

"I warned you," Daenerys told him."Jaehaeron will not come with you. Give my greetings to your King and my condolences to the man's father."

"Prince Doran will hear of this," Ser Estermont replied in a trembling voice.”He will…,”

“He will make sure that Ser Brax receives the proper funeral rites,” Dany finished for him and left.

Dany felt pity for the knight, but was also relieved to return to her private sanctuary.

To her utter surprise she found Viserys awaiting her in company of his wife Princess Arianne.

"Brother," she greeted him happily and placed a kiss on his cheeks, before doing the same with Arianne."What brings you here?"

"You know why I came here," Viserys replied."Did you meet the King’s men."

"I did meet them," she confirmed."And they met Jaehaeron. One of them was foolish enough to raise a sword in his presence. I am sure I will soon hear of your father, Princess Arianne."

"My father is not well," Princess Arianne replied."I doubt he will waste much of a thought on this matter. Besides, he spoke out against Aegon’s folly, but it seems my cousin has his own mind.”

The sadness displayed on Arianne's face eased Dany’s grudge.

"I see," she replied politely and sat down under baldachin overseeing the gardens. Then she bid one of the maids to take Aemon for a walk in the gardens to make him forget the gory incident.

“Well, I think it has more to do with Steffon Baratheon’s growing influence on the King…,” Dany trailed off, her gaze darting to the distant blue sky.

"He is going to be Rhaenys' husband," Viserys added and picked a sweet from the bowl placed on the table. “Aegon was always very fond of him, but you are right to be worried, sister. Mother is also worried."

"When did mother write to you?" she asked, surprised that she wrote to Viserys, but not to her.

"A few days ago," Viserys answered quickly.”It seems the preparations for Aegon’s coronation are in full swing.”

"I don’t care about Aegon’s stupid coronation," Dany replied."I haven't seen our mother in moons and Aemon is missing her."

"I think he is rather missing the sweets she is sneaking him," Arianne remarked and bared her pearl teeth.

"Maybe," Dany replied and smiled tightly.

As always, Viserys noticed her discomfort and made an attempt to change the topic, only to fail miserably.

"By the way....Where is Quentyn?"

"He travelled to Yronwood," she replied."I don't think he will return before we depart for King's Landing."

Arianne nodded her head, her face belying what everybody knew. Quentyn didn’t travel to Yronwood for a mere visit, but to see Lord Yronwood’s lovely daughter.

Not that she had any right to judge him, but the fact that he is hiding it made the whole situation even more uncomfortable for her. It showed that he still held a semblance of affection for her when she wanted to do nothing more than take her son and leave this rotten place.

She often dreamed flying away on Jaehaeron. Sometimes it was Essos and other times it was the North. She doubted Eddard Stark would send her away. He was always very courteous to her. It made her wonder if Jon ever told him about his affections for her, but as always she brushed these thoughts away before they were able to overwhelm her mind.

Finally, Viserys seemed to notice his mistake and smiled awkwardly.

"Well, I suppose Yronwood is very beautiful around this time of the year."

"Very beautiful," Arianne confirmed quickly, an artificial smile playing on her rosy lips."The castle has a magnificent garden and the sweetest kind of fruits."

**...**

**Ser Arthur**

**Winterfell, Tenth Month of AC 301**

Arthur Dayne's face felt numb from the cold, but that was to be expected. Men from the south are not made for the cold of the North. Yet Arthur Dayne welcomed it and pulled the shawl from his neck.

The travel took them nearly two moons, but now they finally arrived in Winterfell, the home of the girl he guarded in that cursed tower in Dorne. Many a tongue may curse Lyanna Stark, but Arthur named her a friend and promised her to take care of her boy. Another promise he broke, but then the world is a place full of broken promises. Now both Rhaegar and Lyanna are lost to him and only Arthur remained.

He wanted to do nothing more than to forget about the past, but there was still one thing he intended to do, a last act to find some sort of redemption.

_I will not fail again_ , he thought and climbed from his horse only to be greeted by Eddard Stark's steward.

Officially he came here to invite Lord Stark to King Aegon's coronation ceremony, but he doubts Eddard Stark will agree.

"Ser Arthur," Ser Roderik, Lord Stark’s steward greeted him."Lord Stark expects you...please come along."

"I thank you," he replied and lowered his head in reverence, before forcing a frozen smile over his lips.

"Thank, Lord Stark," the grim knight replied and showed him the way to the Great Hall. Seated in a stone chair, embellished with snarling dire wolves, he found Eddard Stark, the Warden of the North. He has grown old, his once brown hair littered with streaks of grey.

A sign of grief, Arthur mused and moved towards the steps leading up to the high seat. Next to Lord Stark stood his son, graced with the red hair and blue eyes of House Tully.

What impressed him was the sheer size of the direwolf lying before the young man’s feet.

"Lord Stark," he greeted and knelt."I thank you for receiving me. I come here to invite you to King's Landing. My King bids you to renew the vows of loyalty you gave to his father King Rhaegar."

A heavy moment of silence followed, before Eddard Stark spoke.

"I received your King's letter, but I will not set a foot in the same city as Tywin Lannister. Your King may have my vows in written form."

Arthur sighed deeply.

"You know that King Aegon will not accept this answer, my Lord. I ask you again...come with me to King's Landing to keep the peace."

"Peace?" Eddard Stark asked, his voice laced with bitterness."What peace has my family ever known? King Aegon's father ran away with my sister, a girl of ten and four, impregnated her and didn't even have the decency to keep his promise to me. I don’t blame King Aegon for his father’s actions, but he is the reason my nephew is gone. He treated his own brother like a traitor. Please tell me…Why should I keep the peace?”

Arthur didn't know what to answer. He had never heard the old Lord use such bitter words and it took him a moment to find an appropriate answer to his question.

"Because of your son," Arthur replied."The son I intend to free from his imprisonment."

If Eddard Stark was surprised by his words, it didn't show on his frozen face. He only grabbed the handle of his chair and rose to his feet, his grey eyes cold like the clear surface of a lake.

"And why would you do that?" Lord Stark asked, his voice brimming with deep mistrust."And all you want in return is my vow?

"Aye," Ser Arthur confirmed."I will free your son if you keep the peace. This I swear...on my honour as a knight."

"Your honour as a knight?" Lord Stark asked and laughed bitterly."What honour was there in keeping my sister imprisoned in a tower while her brother and father were slain by your Mad King? I have no need for your false vows. Vows are words and words are wind."

The truth hurt. After hearing about her father’s and brother’s demise Lyanna had wanted to nothing more than to leave the tower, but Arthur had his orders.

_No more_ , he thought and brushed those painful memories away.

"Maybe," he admitted."But I am not trying to deceive you...I intend to free your son."

"How do you intend to accomplish such a feat? What about your vows to your new King?" Robb Stark asked, who had been silent throughout the whole conversation.

"I will not renew my vows to King Aegon. I will take the Black and will smuggle your son out of King's Landing. I have connections, my Lord."

Eddard Stark wrinkled his brows and turned away. A long moment of silence passed until Robb Stark addressed his father in a pleading voice.

"Father...if there is a possibility," he began, but Eddard Stark cut him off and shifted his attention back to Ser Arthur.

"Why should I trust you, Ser Arthur?" he demanded to know."Why should I put my life into your hands?"

"Because we have something in common," Ser Arthur replied."We both didn’t fulfil our promises to Lady Lyanna. Allow me to redeem myself by freeing Brandon Stark. In exchange I only expect of you to keep the peace, my Lord.”

An expression that could only be described as raw pain washed over Eddard Stark's face.

"Very well," Eddard Stark answered at last, his eyes flickering from Robb Stark to Ser Arthur."But know this... If I die the realm will bleed."

**…**


	6. Chapter 6

**Jon**

**Beyond the Wall, Ninth Month of AC 301**

The Frostfangs proved to be a cruel and inhospitable wilderness of stone and ice, though there was a certain beauty to the snow-caped peaks glittering in the soft sunlight.

Yet the beauty of the landscape didn’t ease the hardships of his travel. The foothills leading to the Frostfangs counted a never ending number of winding valleys and the constant snowfall made it easy to get lost.

A Wildling or a seasoned Ranger would have been able to help him, but Jon grew up in the south. His Lady Mother may have been of the North, but he was still a dragon, though his brother always denied the truth.

Brushing away those distracting thoughts he found a protective shelter and slipped into Daerion’s mind.

Flying above the mountain tops it was easier to find an accessible path, though this still included climbing up and down slippery pathways.

Two weeks had passed since his departure from the cave, but the landscape grew only emptier. He has yet to encounter a human being and he was beginning to doubt the existence of the Wildlings. For the Night’s Watch they were the evil enemy lurking beyond the Wall and Jon heard countless stories about their vile deeds. Maybe it was Jon’s southern upbringing, but the few Wildlings had met didn’t look different to him than other people.

 _They are fleeing_ _from the Others_ , Jon knew and touched his new sword.

 _Dark Sister_. He was still unable to believe it, but the legendary sword was now his, though his happiness was dimmed by the fact that he was unable to share his joy…

Daerion’s roar snapped him out of his reverie and made him look at the sky. The sun was nothing more than a hazy ball of light hidden behind a thick wall of grey clouds. The sharp wind and the fresh snowflakes falling from the sky promised another storm.

“You are quite right,” he agreed with the dragon and smiled.”We need a proper shelter. The last time I slipped in your mind I found caves to the east. It will take a bit of climbing, but we should be able to make it there by sunset…Are you up for the challenge?”

Daerion shrieked and flapped his wings, before landing not far from Jon. The dragon’s landing whirled up snow and pieces of ice, before the Daerion lowered his head as if to invite him to climb on top of his back.

“I thank you,” he replied, relief washing over him. His limps ached and he was grateful for this comfortable form of travel, though he was sure that this will exhaust Daerion. Long distances were still a problem for him.

“I am ready,” Jon assured the dragon and patted his back.”Soves!”

His heart pounded wildly as his dragon flapped his wings and lifted him up in the air. He did this before, but it was still a miracle to him.

“Good work!” he praised the dragon, who returned his words with a roar _. A happy roar_ , Jon guessed but he was never sure what the dragon was really thinking. Even slipping into the beast’s mind didn’t help to understand him. Daerion allowed him to use body, but he never revealed his thoughts.

Soon after they had taken to the sky fresh snowfall began to blur his sight. The air grew even colder as they continued to head east, the dragon carrying him over the glittering mountain tops below.

Jon tightened his grip on Daerion’s back as the dragon dipped lower towards the caves littering the southern side of the mountain.

“There!” Jon exclaimed and pointed ahead.”Lower!”

Daerion obeyed instantly and landed on the large glacier below the mountain.

“Thank you,” he told he dragon, his voice hoarse from the cold.”Thank you for the pleasant landing.”

The dragon reared his head and threw plumes of smoke into the air. The sight made him smile and filled him with warmth.

The rest of the way proved easy enough, though a bit of climbing couldn’t be avoided. Daerion followed him all the way up to the cave, but the entrance was far too small for the dragon’s size.

“Forgive me,” Jon apologized, but his dragon didn’t complain and simply flapped his wings, before propelling himself back to the sky.

Upon his entrance, he realized that the cave was used before. He found the leftovers of a fire place, furs and stacked blocks of wood.

Whoever left these belongings had every intention to return. Jon counted himself lucky, for he doubted it were brothers of the Night’s Watch who occupied this cave before him.

_No, this place was used by Wildlings. I finally found them._

Quickly, he made a fire and wrapped himself in the furs left in the cave, before stepping outside to look out for Daerion. Yet hours passed and his dragon didn’t return, though that was not the first time this happened. Daerion’s hunting trips could last days.

I will take a look, he thought and felt the weariness in his bones as he sat back down and leaned against the wall of the cave. The crackling fire and the warmth made it easy to slip into the state between sleep and consciousness needed to makes use of his warging abilities.

It truly felt like slipping in the dragon’s skin, though it would only help to increase his weariness.

Within the blink of a moment he was no longer Jon or the bastard son of King Rhaegar, but the dragon Daerion, soaring over icy mountain tops and valleys alike. It was easy to lose oneself to this feeling of freedom, but the Three-Eyed-Crow had warned him more than once to keep the use of his warging abilities in measure.

A while longer, he thought as he continued to glide over a valley leading to the outskirts of the Haunted Forest. There among the thicket of trees he found his target. He smelled the stag’s blood and propelled himself down to snap the animal from the ground.

The iron taste of blood filled his mouth and made him long to fill his empty stomach, but this feeling of comfort was abruptly torn away when he felt something sharp touching his neck.

“Who are you?” a female voice demanded to know, a pelted boot pressing into his chest. Confused by the rude waking he angled his head and found several others pelted figures standing there. They were armed, their eyes shining with hostility.”What are you doing in our cave?”

Jon swallowed hard and realized that another woman held his sword in her hands.

“I am…am a traveller,” he replied carefully and tried to move into a sitting position, but the woman in front of him disagreed and put her spear on his chest.

“You don’t sound like one of the Free Folk…going by the colour of your clothing I would say you are a crow.”

“Aye, this one’s a crow,” a man agreed and leaned down to sniff at him.”Speaks like a crow and smells like a crow.”

“Crow?” Jon asked, slightly confused.”What do you mean?”

“Are you stupid?” the other woman asked. Then she pulled down her shawl and revealed a dimpled face, framed by fiery-red hair.”The crows are the men who live on that mighty wall of ice.”

 _She is referring to the men of the Night’s Watch_.

“Aye, I was a man of the Night’s Watch,” he replied. „They forced me to take the vow, but I left them. I came here to join the Free Folk. I need to find the King-Beyond-the-Wall.”

His words earned him stunned silence.

“What use could Mance have for a baby crow like you?” the woman armed with the spear asked and finally put her weapon away. “How can we be sure that you are not trying to fool us?”

Jon exhaled deeply and pulled himself to his feet, to get a better look at the woman. Most of her face was covered by a shawl, but a long braid of blond hair was falling over her shoulder.

“My name is Jaehaerys Waters…son of King Rhaegar…and I came here to help the Free Folk.”

“Help us?” the mighty man with the red-beard asked and wrinkled his brows in confusion.”How could a baby crow like you be of help to the Free Folk?”

“My Uncle is Eddard Stark, the Warden of the North. I could try to convince him to help your people. I know why you are so desperate to pass the Wall...,” he tried to explain, but was cut off by the young woman armed with the spear.

“I don’t believe you, crow,” she returned, her voice laced with mistrust.”Who told you about our enemy?”

“I saw them…I saw the Others. One of them nearly killed me. These scars on my face are their handiwork,” he explained and touched the small scars littering his cheeks.

A heavy moment of silence followed as the red-bearded man moved closer and took in his scars.

“How did it happen?”

“The Other shattered my blade. The shards pierced my face like needles. I barely survived.”

“Describe them to me, crow boy,” the red-bearded man demanded to know.”What did they look like?"

“They have skin as pale as snow and eyes as blue as frost. Their steps sound like the cracking of snow and their blades produce a high sound when they meet steel.”

“He sounds honest to me,” he red-bearded man remarked and grinned.”He smells and speaks like a crow, but he is far too pretty to be one of them. Maybe I was wrong.”

“You mentioned that you are the son of the King,” the woman with the spear added and pulled down her shawl.”Did he send you here?”

“He made me join the Watch,” Jon replied vaguely.”But I came here because I want to help the Free Folk.”

“He forced you to join?” the other girl, with the red hair asked.”Did they force you to say that stupid vow that says you can’t have girls? Mance swore the same vow, but he has a woman and a child.

The men of the Night’s Watch called Mance Ryder an oathbreaker and thus it didn’t surprise him that he took a woman and fathered a child.

 _I am also an oathbreaker_ , he thought but felt no guilt. He never wanted to join the Night’s Watch. He did it to keep the peace, but his vows were never true. And now he is preparing to help the Wildlings pass the Wall. He doubted his brother would approve of his actions, but his brother’s opinion mattered little when the Others are about to acquire an army of dead men.

"Aye," he confirmed and played along. It was not hard, because deep down he meant it."They made me swear this stupid vow, but that is not the reason I came here. As I said…I came here to help you, but first I need to speak with your King. I know it sounds like utter madness, but I have a dragon and I saw the enemy. My Uncle Eddard Stark is a reasonable man. I am sure he will believe me if I tell him what I saw.”

His words earned him only more stunned looks.

"Dragon?" the woman with the spear asked."Are you trying to take us for fools?"

“No,” he insisted.”Once my dragon returns…,” he continued, but the woman’s spear on his neck silenced him.

“I don’t believe you…,” she repeated. „But we will take you to Mance…he will decided what to do with you.”

Jon sighed deeply and nodded his head in understanding. They may not believe him, but at least he will be able to meet the King-Beyond-the Wall. He just needs to hold out until Daerion returns from his hunt.

Then not even the King-Beyond-the-Wall would be able to name him a liar.

…

**Viserys**

**King’s Landing, Tenth Month of AC 301**

King’s Landing was still the same stinking place he recalled from his last visit. That the city was brimming with the High Lords of Westeros, accompanied by their brightly-coloured litters and the smell of perfume didn’t help to get the smell of shit out of Viserys’ nose. Why none of his ancestors ever considered building a proper sewer system was a mystery to him, but he supposed they simply got used to the smell of shit.

For Viserys it was a foreign smell. Dragonstone, the place where he grew up, smelled of the sea and storm. His new home Dorne was a place filled with the odour of spice and exotic flowers, but King’s Landing smelled like a dirty whore.

His sister seemed to share his disgust, because she kept the curtain of her litter closed as if to block out the world around her. Before they left Dorne his sister sported a relatively good mood, but her smile was banished from her lips when she had to say goodbye to her dragon and son.

Viserys believed to know why. She fears that someone might try to take her dragon, but then Jaehaeron had grown considerably and didn’t allow anyone close other than his sister and nephew. The last man ended up burned to a crisp.

“Did you smell that?” Arianne asked and wrinkled her nose in disgust, a small smile playing on her lips.

“I smelled it,” Viserys confirmed and closed the curtains. Sweat started to roll down his brows and he brushed it way with the sleeve of his silken tunic.

Sadly, it took another tedious hour, before they were finally able to leave their litter. Inside the air proved just a stifling and made Viserys long to go home to Dragonstone.

Arianne didn't waste much time to take a bath in company of her two cousins. The thought of them naked in the steaming water stirred his desire, but now was not the right time for such base thoughts. Before his marriage, he had feared this would be a loveless match, but now he knew that it could have been much worse. He doubted that Arianne loved him, but she never complained to share his bed nor did she shun his presence. They shared a strange sort of contentment, though the absence of an heir was hanging over them like a sharp sword. Yet Viserys never got the impression that Arianne held a particular longing for children. It was Doran Martell’s utmost wish to have a grandson, but Arianne’s.

Not that Viserys cared about Doran Martell's opinion. He never held much love for the man, but he knew about Arianne’s hidden fear that her father might disinherit her in favour of her brother Quentyn.

And it was not hard to understand why. Quentyn was his father's son, calm and dutiful. Arianne on the other hand was of a colourful and wilful character, though Viserys liked that about her.

Brushing those thoughts away he pulled off his clothes and joined Arianne, who was lounging in a pool of steaming water.

Surprisingly, Elia and Tyene weren’t there.

"Did you send them away?" Viserys asked.

Arianne grinned.

“Do you dislike the idea?” she asked and moved closer, her pert breasts visibly through the sheen of water. Viserys swallowed hard and leaned back to get a hold of himself.

"No," he replied honestly and touched her waist to pull her closer."I am only surprised that they left freely. They like to tease me."

"Tyene wanted to visit the Sept of Baelor. You know how pious she is," Arianne replied, slipped her hand under the water and stroked him.

He bit his lips to stifle the desire whirling up inside him, but it was no use. A gasp escaped his lisp which made Arianne giggle. She liked to take her time with him, but Viserys was rather tired and longed for bed. The prospect of attending the ceremony tomorrow dimmed his mood only more.

Viserys never liked such huge gatherings, but refusing was out of the question.

Thus he brushed Arianne’s hand away, which earned him a scowl.

"You are such a spoilsport, husband," she snickered and crawled out of the pool to pull a fresh cloth over her shoulders."Or did your sister infect you with her dark mood?"

"Why bring up my sister?" he asked, rather put off by her comment."You know her reasons. You called her a friend..."

"That was before she started acting up," Arianne replied."Her dragon is getting to her head and she could endanger us. It is as if she is purposefully trying to anger Aegon."

Viserys sighed and brushed his wet hair out of his face.

"Aegon was a fool to think he could take away the dragon. Even your father thought his idea foolish and told him so. My sister is not at fault here."

"Maybe," Arianne replied and put on a fresh robe."But it has been more than a year and she is still wearing black. How long does she intend to keep up this act? Forever?"

"I don't know my sister’s thoughts," Viserys replied."But Jon was very important to her. I grew up with him and I never understood why Aegon perceived him as a danger. If Aegon ever took the time to get to know his brother he could have won himself a loyal supporter. Not that it matters, but I doubt my sister will ever let go of her grudge against your family. She is far too stubborn for that."

Arianne sighed and nodded her head in understanding.

"Anyway...enjoy your bath," she replied and left him to his thoughts. Viserys nearly fell asleep, but a servant boy was kind enough to wake him. Yet he was unable to find sleep and rose early.

A bloody sky spread over the city when he joined Arianne, who was already bedecked in rich silks and jewels. His sister was there in company of her husband, though the way they treated each other was reminiscent of strangers.

"You look beautiful, sister," he complimented her when he noticed the black silk dress their Lady mother gifted her not long ago. Black always suited her, though Viserys would have preferred if she put on something more colourful. He wanted to see her smile again, like in the past.

"Thank you," she replied and placed a kiss on his cheek, before they made their way to the Throne Room. Viserys had been here a handful of times, but the Iron Throne was ugly as ever. Truly, getting rid of this ugly chair would be his first decree.

That the hall was brimming with guests drove the sweat on his brows and made him feel uncomfortable. Truly, the only pleasant sight was his Lady Mother emerging from the crowd of people.

"Daenerys...Viserys," she whispered."My heart feels lighter to behold your faces."

"It is good to see you again, mother," Viserys replied and felt slightly embarrassed by his mother's open display of affection in front of his Lady wife.

Daenerys didn't share his embarrassment and buried her head in her Lady mother's neck longer than appropriate.

"I missed you, mother,"Daenerys replied and gave their mother a tear-stricken smile.”Aemon missed you too."

"I missed him too," his Lady mother replied and brushed her cheek."And I will soon return to Dorne. I am tired of court. I need my peace."

"Then you won't go to Rhaenys' wedding?" Daenerys asked, a stunned expression washing over her face.

His Lady mother shook her head and smiled sadly.

"No, I suppose Viserys' presence will have to suffice for both of us. I heard you are not attending either."

"No," Daenerys replied quietly, though everyone knew why she was not invited. Doran feared another embarrassment. That she was attending the coronation ceremony was only due Aegon’s wish.

 _He wants to put her in place_ , Viserys knew.

Her mother opened her mouth to speak, but then they were called to attention by the Hand of the King, Tywin Lannister.

The old Lion carried himself with his usual arrogance, his beloved grandson Steffon walking behind him like a shadow.

Aegon entered soon after and sat down on the throne. He looked changed, his silver-blond hair shortened and covered by the crown of his father, King Rhaegar. He looked like a King, but the dragon turned out to be a disappointment.

He was a precious beast graced with golden and white skin, but smaller than his sister’s dragon. _Eleandron_ , he was named in honour for the late Queen Elia. Yet Viserys couldn’t help but to notice how displeased the dragon looked, though he understood why Aegon chose to chain him. A dragon is no pet and could harm his Queen, standing next to him.

Queen Margaery Tyrell was an appearance, but Viserys couldn't help but to notice the pallor of her skin. The cause was supposedly a miscarriage, but this could only be a nasty rumour. The Dornish hold not much love for the Tyrell Queen and certain fools even dared to call Aegon’s daughter a bastard. It was utter nonsense, but to hear such things from Aegon’s most loyal allies showed how deep the rivalry between the Dornish and the Tyrells goes.

Yet these dark thoughts were soon banished as the High Septon stepped forward to begin with the ceremony. Long hours of singing and preaching followed until Aegon was finally crowned and the next act began.

After the crowning the High Lords were meant to renew their vows of loyalty in the eyes of the Seven.

The High Lords followed one after another. There was Mace Tyrell, Tywin Lannister, Arianne who was there on behalf of her father Prince Doran Martell, Edmure Tully, Steffon Baratheon and of course Lady Jeyne Arryn.

She was a fragile girl, graced with red hair and glassy blue eyes, but by Aegon’s will the Lady of the Eyrie, a place she has yet to visit.

The last one to give his vows was Eddard Stark , who arrived rather late. A great insult, some whispered, but Viserys found a simpler explanation. The travel from the North to King’s Landing is rather lengthy.

Grim and frozen of face Lord Stark gave his vow. Viserys sighed in relief when it was over. Like many others he had feared an exchange of threats.

Then Viserys and Daenerys were called forth to give their vows.

When his sister made no attempt to move Viserys took her hand and pulled her towards the steps leading up to the throne.

A smile played on Aegon's lips as he regarded his sister and Viserys.

"Your Grace," Viserys said and pulled on Daenerys’ arm to make her kneel down next to him.”We are here to give our vows of loyalty."

Aegon nodded his head, his purple gaze resting on Daenerys.

"I first want to hear Princess Daenerys’ vows," he demanded.

Daenerys met his gaze and forced the words over her lips.

"I, Princess Daenerys Targaryen swear loyalty to King Aegon, the Sixth of his Name. May he live long and prosper."

Her answer didn't seem to satisfy Aegon, for he tugged on the chain of his dragon and the beast started to move it’s head towards his sister.

He admired her for standing her ground.

"Say it again...but this time like you actually mean it," Aegon demanded and Viserys wanted to do nothing more than to drag her out of the room.

Daenerys exhaled deeply and pursed her lips.

"I, Princess Daenerys Targaryen swear loyalty to King Aegon, the Sixth of his Name. May he know more humility.”

Aegon looked like someone poured a bucket of cold water of her his head.

"You dare...," Aegon muttered and his dragon’s eyes of molten gold wandered to Daenerys."It is you who ought to have more humility. I am your King."

"My Father was also a King," Daenerys countered, her voice barely above a whisper as the dragon moved closer, baring his sharp teeth. „Though I admit he was a horrible person.”

"Your father was a madman," Aegon seethed."Everybody knows that."

"Some say the same about your father, your Grace,” his sister returned daringly.

This was the last straw and the dragon snapped his head forward. Daenerys was barely able to move out of the way, but she stumbled backwards and fell down two steps, before hitting the ground.

He heard a whimper, but by the time he had turned his head his sister had pulled herself back to her knees. Viserys didn’t hesitate to join her side and place himself before Daenerys.

"I think that is enough," Viserys declared and met his nephew's gaze."We are kin, your Grace."

“My son speaks true,” his mothered joined her voice, coming to stand next to him. She was trembling, but her neck was straight and her purple gaze was filled with determination.”I think you made your point.”

“Yet I don’t think my Aunt understands,” Aegon disagreed, but then another voice joined theirs.

"Your Lady Grandmother speaks true," Lord Eddard Stark remarked coldly and stepped forward. “What Princess Daenerys said is not wrong…A King ought to know humility and part of it consists in honouring one's family members."

Aegon frowned, his gaze flickering to the Lord of the North.

“It was my Aunt who refused to honour me, my Lord."

Eddard Stark’s gaze was unyielding.

"I was not speaking of the Princess Daenerys, your Grace. I was speaking of your brother, my nephew. You shunned him like one shuns an enemy.”

Then he lowered his head and was about to leave, but Aegon called for the Kingsguard and Eddard Stark found himself surrounded by their sharp blades. Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan Selmy were no longer among them. Ser Barristan was forced to retire due to his bad eyesight and Ser Arthur Dayne brazenly refused to renew his vows to King Aegon. Arianne had also told him that the proud knight swore to take the Black.

Eddard Stark laughed.

"Kill me and follow into your grandfather's footsteps, your Grace."

Instantly, Aegon winked the Kingsguard away.

"I am not my grandfather, my Lord," he replied through gritted teeth."Very well, you may leave. There are many more who came to pledge their loyalty."

"I thank you, your Grace," Eddard Stark replied coldly and lowered his head, before returning to his entourage.

…

**Jon**

**Beyond the Wall, Tenth Month of AC 301**

They left the cave early in the morning and had walked the whole day.

Jon watched the sky constantly, hoping to find a sign of his dragon.

“Does talking hurt you, Crow Prince?” Val asked him, probably because she was growing tired of the silence between them.

“No,” he replied, his voice muffled by the shawl wrapped around his head.”I don’t know.”

“I asked you a question, Crow Prince,” she repeated and yanked on the rope bound around his hands.

He didn’t know why, but Val was starting to grate on his nerves. His new nickname annoyed him even more. It was like a flashback to his child hood. People always gave him all kind of insulting names.

_Bastard…son of the Northern whore…_

Aegon’s choice of name for him always hurt the most.

_My father’s bastard._

“Are you deaf too?” Val asked and yanked harder.

Jon heard enough and pulled his hands to his chest. His action caught the Wildling girl completely off guard and a moment later she kissed the snow.

“Damn Crow!” she cursed angrily, her face flushed beat red as she pulled herself back to her feet. Leaning on her spear she flashed him a sharp look, but the amused laughter from the other Wildlings helped to lighten the mood.

“Calm your tit’s Val!” the red-bearded man Tormund remarked and patted her shoulder in a calming gesture.”Mance will deal with the boy.”

Then he turned to Jon and grinned.

“Be careful boy or this one will cut off your cock and wear it around her neck.”

“Listen to Tormund…” Val agreed and straightened herself.

“What are you doing?” Ygritte, the red-haired girl complained. “You are slowing us down.”

“Aye,” Torreg, graced with equally red hair agreed and stroked his beard. He had a similar build like his father Tormund, but the light green eyes gave him an almost boyish look. He was also Ygritte’s lover or that is what he assumed given that they were constantly touching each other.”Ygritte’s right. Stop the fighting and let’s move on. The sky is darkening and we need to make it to the cave before nightfall…you should know that better than anyone.”

Anger showed on Val’s face, but she didn’t protest against Una’s words.

Instead she exhaled deeply and yanked on the rope. Jon, who longed to slip back into his dragon’s mind, didn’t protest and followed along. The prospect of a warm fire and a meal helped.

They climbed and walked for another hour as the sun began to descend behind the horizon, painting the sky in an eerie colour of red.

“I can see it!” Freya, the youngest among the group exclaimed. She was a girl of ten and three, her blondish hair kept in two long braids. “We are almost there!”

“We hear ya, lass!” Tormund replied and led the way, flanked by Val’s man Jarl and the ever silent warrior named Old Garth. He was the oldest member of the group, his hair white like snow.

 _They don’t have to like you_ , he reminded himself. _You only need to wait for Daerion’s return._

They had to climb up another slope, before they finally found the promised cave. It was a small cave, but the Wildings seemed unbothered by the lack of space. In fact, they seemed to appreciate the warmth.

Jon found it rather strange, because he had to sit scooped up between Val, who continued to ignore him and Tormund’s daughter Frey, who enjoyed telling him about her latest hunting adventures.

All the while the Wildlings went about their respective duties.

Una, Ygritte and Frey chopped the wood for the fire, while Jarl helped Val to skin the suirrels they had killed along the way. Tormund continued to cut a strange sort of root into a pot placed beneath his feet while the ever-silent Garth pulled out his lute and started to play a song.

“Crow Prince,” Ygritte addressed him as she continued to rub two stones together, sending sparks into the air.”Since you can’t work…tell us something interesting about the south.”

Jon frowned and wanted to refuse, but the hopeful look showing on Freya’s face helped to change his mind. She reminded him a little bit of Arya.

He sighed deeply and tried to find an interesting piece of information. When nothing came to his mind, he returned the question.

“What do you want to know?”

“Is it true that you have days full of sunshine?” Freya asked excitedly.

“Not everywhere. It is very hot in Dorne, but Dragonstone can get quite chilly, though I suppose your people would call it pleasantly warm.”

“Dragonstone,” Ygritte repeated, her blue eyes glowing with wonder.”Is this the place where the dragons live? I heard your people had hundreds of them?”

Jon wanted to laugh, but kept himself back, because he was sure the young woman would only take it as an insult.

“Aye,” he confirmed.”My family used to have a lot of dragons, but that was a long time ago. My dragon is very young.”

Val rolled her eyes.

“The Crow Prince is bullshitting you, Ygritte,” she added and continued to sharpen her spear.”Mance told me the dragons died more than a hundred years ago.”

“Mance is right,” Jon insisted.”But I have a dragon…wait and see.”

She met his gaze directly.

”Gladly.”

“Gladly,” Jon repeated and yanked on the rope wound around her right foot. She nearly slipped from her seat, but the sight satisfied him.

The others laughed, but Val grumbled.

“Do that again and you will spend the Night outside!”

“That would be a very bad idea,” Ygritte remarked, her voice laced with amusement.”I doubt Mance wants to meet a wight.”

“Very well,” Val muttered and Jon continued to answer Freya’s questions.

“Here…I will feed you,” Tormund’s daughter offered and lifted her wooden spoon to his mouth.

“Can’t you just cut me free?” he asked in return.”It’s not like I would be able to get far. Besides, I specifically came here because I want to meet Mance.”

“No!” Val muttered and silenced him.”We don’t know you and we don’t trust you.”

Jon sighed and Tormund’s daughter grinned as she put the spoon in his mouth.

His annoyance was soon forgotten when he tasted the fresh meat mixed with the wild vegetables. It was his first proper meal in moons.

Soon the whole bowl was empty and he would have gladly asked for another, there was not enough food for a second bowl.

Sated, they settled all down to rest.

Yet not all of them slept. Val and Freya continued to make arrows while the ever-silent Garth continued to play on his lute. It was a melancholic song that made him recall his father’s harp play.

“Crow Prince,” Freya whispered to him.”Can you tell us a story? It would make our work less boring.

Jon shrugged his shoulders. Daenerys was the storyteller not him.

“What kind of stories do you like?”

“I like sad stories…the ones that make you weep.”

Jon sighed and searched his memory for a sad story. He knew plenty of history, but he doubted that a young girl like her would be interested to hear about his ancestor’s history.

“I know a story,” he said at last.”The story of the Knight of the Laughing Tree…it is a rather sad tale.”

“Knight,” the young girl repeated as if it was a foreign word.”What is a knight?”

“They are warriors who wear shiny armour,” Val answered quickly and put an arrow on the heap next to her feet.

“Oh,” Freya said, her face lightening up with curiosity.”I see.”

Jon laughed and pursed his lips, before recounting the tale of his parents’ doomed love. His father even wrote a song about it.

“Not long ago, there lived a wolf maid who was betrothed to a stag. Sadly, the wolf maid held no love for the stag and wished to roam free. Truly, her life would have been much easier if she did her duty, but the wolf maid was ever headstrong and fell in love with a dragon. She met him on a tourney, a fighting competition held for the strongest fighters in the realm, but nobody knew that the wolf maid disguised herself as the Knight of the Laughing Tree and took part in the competition,” he continued, but stopped when he saw Val’s frown.

“I didn’t know that ladies in the south are allowed to fight?” she asked.

“Ladies can fight, but most people would think it strange. Well, that is the reason the wolf maid had to disguise herself.”

“And why did she want to take part in this competition? Just for fun?” Freya asked.

“No, she wanted to take revenge against a bunch of squires who insulted her friend.”

“Squires,” Frey asked and Jon was quick to provide her with an explanation.

“They are serving the knights,” he explained.”They are like young warriors in training.”

“Like me,” she declared proudly, before continuing with her work.”Please continue. You have yet to tell us how the wolf maid fell in love with the dragon. And this stag…he was surely angered by the wolf maid’s actions.”

“He was,” Jon confirmed.”But back to my tale…the wolf maid proved victorious in her attempt to revenge her friend and paid the squires a lesson they never forgot. Sadly, the Dragon King was displeased about the wolf maid’s victory and sent his son the Dragon Prince to retrieve the daring knight. Soon the Dragon Prince found the wolf maid and was enchanted her. He even allowed her to go free and gave her a precious gift… a crown of winter roses…a crown that promised doom.”

“Doom?” Val asked and wrinkled her brows.”How can a crown of flowers bring doom? Did the Dragon King find out about his son’s lie and burned them alive?”

“No,” Jon replied and shook his head.”But the Dragon Prince was already married…their love was forbidden…by crowning his love he shamed his wife.”

“Stupid Dragon Prince!” Val quipped.”Why did he steal himself a woman he didn’t love? Or did he love both of them and forgot about the other one?”

Jon was confused by the term “stealing”, but he assumed it was a Wilding term for “marriage”.

“No, he was forced to steal his first wife…it was a political match,” he tried to explain, but earned himself another snort.

“No, wonder he was unable to keep his cock in his pants,” Val remarked.”How can someone hump a woman he doesn’t love?”

“True,” Jon confirmed and couldn’t help but to smile.”But I think I should continue…I think Freya wants to hear the end of the story.”

Val nodded her head in understanding.

“Continue, but make it quick…our work is nearly finished and we all need to sleep.”

“Well, the Dragon Prince crowned her and she fell in love with him. A year later he ran off with her or stole her as your people would say. Her brother the Wild Wolf heard of this and rode off to confront the Dragon Prince. Sadly, he met a sad end after he crudely insulted the Dragon Prince in front of his father the Dragon King. The Wild Wolf’s father tried to rescue his son, but the Dragon King knew no mercy and had both of them murdered. Yet that was not the end of it. The Dragon King also demanded the head of the wolf maid’s other brother and his friend the stag. Their guardian refused the Dragon King and sparked a bloody war. A year later the stag was killed by the Dragon Prince. Soon after he tried to return to his beloved wolf maid, but she died in childbed, after birthing him a son.”

Freya bit her lips, tears shining in her eyes. Val’s face softened a little as she inclined her head to look at him.

“A sad story, Crow Prince,” Val remarked softly and put the last arrow away, before pulling her pelted cloak over her shoulders. “But now we need to sleep.”

“Aye,” Jon replied and leaned back against the wall. His body felt heavy and he was soon able to slip into Daerion’s mind.

…

**Eddard Stark**

**King’s Landing, Ninth Month of AC 301**

Eddard Stark watched the waves crashing against the ship. His impatience was getting the better of him, but that was no surprise.

He hadn’t seen his son in years and wondered how much he has grown. When he was born he looked exactly like Robb, but now he was almost a young man.

Maybe he doesn’t even want to go home. Jon told him that his son wants to be knight.

_No, I need to take him home. Cat needs to hold him in her arms. Then we can think of the future._

“My Lord, I think they are coming,” Ser Roderik remarked, his face grim and foreboding.

“It seems so,” he replied and saw the golden cloaks of the city guard glimmering in the dying sunlight.

Marching in front was Ser Arthur, now devoid of his white cloak. Next to him walked a man dressed in a greasy black cloak leading a group of young men and boys; they were thieves and other criminals meant to join the watch.

Ned tried to appear as hostile as possible, but his eyes were searching for Bran’s face among the dirty-faced youths.

“I apologize for the delay, my Lord,” Ser Arthur Dayne apologized, a smile curling on his lips.

“No bother,” Eddard Stark replied coldly and eyed the man next to Ser Arthur.

“This is Yoren, of the Night’s Watch,” Ser Arthur introduced his companion.”We have known each other for many years. He is an old friend.”

“Well met,” Lord Stark replied and lowered his head.”I am pleased to meet you, but I am anxious to leave this cursed city.”

“Of course, M’Lord,” the man replied and showed his yellow teeth.

Ser Arthur nodded head in agreement and graced the captain of the Gold Cloaks with a quick smile.

“You may leave now. As you can see…we are on our way.”

“Understood,” the man replied and lowered his head, before marching off in company of his men.

Ser Arthur helped Yoren to get the recruits on the ship, but only when they had put a good amount of distance between themselves and the city did they speak.

“Father!” one of the boys exclaimed, his voice laced with fear and happiness.”Father!”

Ned didn’t even recognize his son, dressed in tattered peasant clothes and his hair painted black.

Yet his eyes betrayed his identity. Eyes of summer like his Lady mother.

“Bran,” was all he managed to say, the sound of it more a mangled sob than words.”It has been too long…!”

The boy, who was half a stranger to him, hopped into his arms. It felt as if a long missing piece of his family was returned to him.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters will probably come out next week.


	7. Chapter 7

**Daenerys**

**Sunspear, Eleventh Month of AC 301**

Dany didn't even have to change her dress to attend Doran Martell's funeral. He had died slowly, but Dany felt little sympathy for the man. He damned Jon to a death beyond the Wall while he was able to die peacefully and surrounded by his loved ones.

What surprised her was that Princess Arianne wept for her father. The two of them never saw eye to eye, but even now she sometimes noticed tears shining in the Princess’ eyes.

Arianne was now the ruling Princess of Dorne and had only recently taken residence in the palace once occupied by her father. Dany was happy for her, but as a Prince of Dorne her brother’s responsibilities will only increase.

_At least mother remains to me_ , she thought and brushed her hand through Aemon's hair.

"Dragon!" he exclaimed happily and pointed at the night sky visible through the open window. There the shadowy figure of Jaehaeron was flying his daily circles. He was now nearly big enough to be mounted, but Dany still hesitated to do so. The dragon may be affectionate towards her and Aemon, but she feared that he might not accept her as his rider.

_Soon_ , she told herself and pulled down his hand, before placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Aye, Jaeheron is watching over us!" she whispered to him."But now you need to sleep. We will visit him tomorrow."

Aemon shook his head in return, but another brush of her hand through his curly hair helped to change his opinion.

He was an obedient child, but had a rather stubborn character like her.

_A mother's child_ , Quentyn had called him during his last visit. Daenerys didn't know if she should consider his remark a compliment or an insult, but it was the truth. Aemon was more hers than his, though that was no surprise. In the last six moons her husband had barely spent two weeks in Sunspear. Only the funeral of his father caused him to return, but she doubted he plans to remain for long. Arianne and Quentyn are like dogs and cats, but the fact that the ruling Princess of Dorne has yet to birth an heir is standing between the two siblings like an abyss of mistrust.

"There you are," Viserys greeted quietly as he entered the Sept. While she was strong believer, she came here every night after putting her son to sleep.

She smiled and bridged the distance, before placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I didn't expect such a late visit," she remarked and regarded him closely. His hair was freshly-cut and he looked rather tired."What brings you here?"

"It seems I am leaving tonight," he confirmed."Quentyn informed me that Rhaenys’ wedding will take place earlier than anticipated. Well, I am scheduled to meet him at Castle Yronwood and then we will travel onwards to the Stormlands.”

Dany nodded and a stab of guilt piercing her heart. She promised Rhaenys that she would attend her wedding, but her last meeting with Aegon was more than hostile and thus she was asked to remain here.

_I am an embarrassment_ , she knew, but she didn't care. She felt guilty for breaking her promise to Rhaenys, but she didn’t care to endure Aegon's self-sufficient smiles. _I don't belong there._

"True," she replied and patted her brother's cheek."I wish I could go with you, but you know the reasons."

"Of course," he replied and smiled."And while I am gone…take care of my Lady wife. Arianne may not admit it, but her father's death rattled her quite a bit. Maybe you and Aemon could pay her a visit?"

"Sure," Dany replied, though she doubted Arianne would share Viserys’ opinion on the matter. She may dote on Aemon, but Dany doubted her presence would help to ease Princess Arianne’s grief.

Dany didn’t know how it felt to lose a father.

...

**Jon**

**Beyond the Wall, Eleventh Month of AC 301**

Jon woke with blood in his mouth, his body numb from the cold. He lifted his head and found the sky outside the cave littered with thousands of stars. It was still night and at best he had slept for a few hours. It was always cold during the night, but something was different tonight. The icy air coming through the opening of the cave burned on his skin and his breath was leaving his mouth in form of white puffs.

_Something is not right_ , was the first thought that came to his mind. He spent moons in the wilderness, but he never experienced such a cold, let alone in a protected cave.

_Could they have found us,_ he wondered and felt panic surging through him.

His arms were still bound and he was barely able to sit up. Thus he yanked on the rope to wake Val. Finally, she was stirred from her sleep, an angry look marring her even-shaped face.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her hand automatically grabbing her spear.

“There is something wrong,” he explained, his teeth clattering as he spoke.”Can’t you feel the cold?”

She pulled the fur from her shoulders and shuddered. Then a cold gust of wind howled through the cave, bringing with it snowflakes.

“Gods!” Val gasped, realization showing on her face.”Gods!”

An expression of panic took hold of her features and her gaze flickered to their companions. They were all asleep and the fire extinguished.

“Una!” Val shouted and rose to her feet, before poking the sleeping woman with the back of her spear.

“Val…,” Una muttered, her face filled with confusion.”What is going on?”

“Why did you not watch the fucking fire?”

Una’s eyes widened in shock.

”I didn’t…,” she apologized, but Jon didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as he used the moment to kick Tormund and then Freya, who were both still asleep. By that time Val had ended her conversation with Una and she began to wake the rest of their companions.

“Wake up! All of you, wake up!” Val shouted.

“What the fuck is going on?” Tormund asked and shuddered, feeling the cold like Jon and Val before him.

“Fuck! Fuck!” he cursed and searched for his weapon.

The others followed Tormund’s example. Jarl grabbed his axe, Ygritte her bow, Freya her spear, old Garth a pike-like weapon and Una pulled out a dagger made of the same dark material the Children of the Forest had called dragonglass.

“I have three more of them!” he shouted and jerked his head at Una’s dagger.

“Where?” Val demanded to know and Jon jerked his head to his belongings. Val bridged the distance and began searching through his bag. A moment later she found the daggers and handed one to Tormund, Jarl and old Garth.

“Who gave these daggers to you?” Val asked then, but Jon had little patience for such questions and pulled on the rope.”Not now…cut me free and give me my sword.”

“The Crow Prince is right!” Tormund agreed and cut him free. Ygritte handed him Dark Sister and an ear bleeding shriek filled his ears.

“Stay together!” Tormund shouted and made his way to the entrance of the cave.”We don’t know how many of them are coming for us.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to stay here?” Una asked, her voice laced with fear.

“No, because they could trap us!” Tormund countered and stepped outside, the rest of them following after him.

“Keep close to me, Freya!” Val told the youngest member of their group, but the girl’s answer was drowned out by the howling wind. For a brief moment Jon saw nothing, but blurred shapes of white and grey.

Jon gritted his teeth and tightened the grip on his sword as they made their way through the snow.

Another shriek followed and then he saw them, shadows moving through the snow, their frost blue eyes shining like stars.

“Left from you!” Jarl warned Tormund, before rushing forward and burying his dagger in the creature’s body. It stopped moving and dropped to the ground, but that was not the end of it. From all directions, the wights came rushing towards them through the snow.

Jon cut apart a wight trying to bury its teeth in his arm. Two others followed, Dark sister cutting through their rotting flesh like butter. They dropped like puppets without strings, but more and more appeared as if conjured by some mysterious force.

“Jarl! In front of you!” Val’s hoarse voice warned as a swarm of wights tackled the warrior from behind, throwing him into the snow. Jon couldn’t make out what was going on, because the storm was growing stronger and stronger. For a brief moment he only saw the movement of shadows and heard stifled cries mixing with the shrieks of the wights.

Then he spotted Old Garth, his dagger raised for attack. Jon followed along and moments later they found Jarl desperately trying to fight off three wights at once.

Old Garth buried his pike in the creature’s head sitting on top of Jarl’s body, splitting it into two. Jon cut apart another creature while Jarl buried his blade in the remaining wight, pushing it off his body. He was bleeding, but still alive.

Yet they didn’t have time to rest, the cries of their companions reaching them through the storm.

“Crow Prince! Jarl! Get back here!” They heard Tormund’s angry command.”I told you to stay together!”

“We heard you!” Jarl grumbled and leaned on Old Garth’s shoulder as they made their way through the snow, Jon guarding their back.

Behind him he found a white wall of snowflakes, the stars nothing but distant candles.

Soon they found Tormund and the others. The wights snarled and shrieked, their teeth seeking their companion’s skin. Val kicked them away and tried to fight them off with her spear while Freya continued stabbing them left and right. The young girl was shivering from head to toe, tears rolling down her cheek as she tried to stay close to her father.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Tormund cursed as they continued their fight.

_Cut. Stab. Hack. Cut. Stab. Hack._

The words rolled like a prayer from his lips, but his hand was soon trembling from the exhaustion.

It felt like a struggling against a massive wave of water threatening to swallow him up.

_Daerion_ , he called out to his dragon. _Where the fuck are you?_

The Last time he slipped into his dragon’s mind, he was still hunting. Even now the taste of blood lingered in his mouth.

“Una!” Val’s shriek snapped him out of his thoughts. Jon whirled around and gasped for air.

A blade of milkglass had pierced Una from behind and the being wielding the weapon was not a wight.

Pale skin, a wrinkled face and eyes as blue as frost marked the creature as one of them.

_The Others._

A lazy yank of the Other was enough to pull the blade out of Una’s body, crimson blood splattering the snow beneath her feet. Old Garth lifted his pike that was promptly shattered when it met the blade of milkglass.

It took only the blink of a moment, before the Other buried his blade in Old Garth’s chest.

Jon and Jarl stormed forward while the others were still occupied with the swarm of wights. Ygritte was trying to help them, littering the approaching enemy with arrows and stabbing others with her dragonglass dagger.

“Fuck you!” Jarl cursed and lifted his dagger, but when the Other swung his blade he had to move out of the way to save his skin.

Jon attacked him from the other side, bringing down his blade in a sharp cut. The Other moved with unexpected agility and met his blow. The milkglass met the Valyrian steel and Jon braced himself for the familiar ear-bleeding sound

Yet there was no sound. His blade absorbed the blow with ease, the milkglass and steel moving against each other, before parting.

If the Other was surprised it didn’t show on his frozen face, but his lethargic reaction to Jon’s next blow was fatal.

Jon’s blade went deep into the Other’s head, but the effect was astounding. The Other didn’t just die, but was blown apart into small pieces of ice.

Jon was stunned.

_Who? Why?_

Yet these questions whirling through his mind were banished away when he heard Tormund’s cursing.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Jon whirled around and found Tormund swarmed by four wights, his daughter Freya clinging to his back. Val was not far, stabbing and kicking the wights away.

Jarl rushed to her side while Jon went to help Tormund. He buried his blade into the first creature he found, before kicking way another. One of them buried it’s teeth in his pelted shoulder, sharp pain surging through his arm.

Jon gritted his teeth and brought his knee up to kick the wight away, before taking off the wights’ head in one powerful blow.

Yet it was too much. More and more of the wights appeared, trying to overwhelm them like a powerful wave.

_Hack. Stab. Hack. Stab. Hack. Stab. Hack. Stab. Hack. Stab._

The words whirling through his mind were like the rhythm of a drum, but Jon was barely able to lift his blade, his breath growing laboured. The exhaustion was getting to him.

“Die! Die! Die!” he heard Val’s desperate cries, accompanied by Tormund’s curses and Freya’s weeping.

“There are too many of them!” Jarl muttered burying his dagger left and right.

Jon was about to lift his blade for another attack when a sudden gust of heat met his skin and a familiar roar drowned out the shrieks of the wights.

“Daerion!” he gasped as the dragon propelled himself downwards, bathing the nearest wights in a sea of flames.

Jon didn’t waste time to move back to Tormund and Val. Ygritte and Torreg were not far, his face bleeding from a nasty wound at this neck.

“Out of the way!” Jon shouted at the group while his dragon continued to bath the approaching wights in fire.

“Fuck!” was all Tormund said before he moved the others to safety, through the snow, back to the cave.

Jon remained behind, making his way back to the dragon. Daerion was agitated, angry and he was sure that he would need his calming presence.

More and more flames whirled into the air, lightening up the world around him. The heat felt like a pleasant cookfire.

“Calm yourself!” he shouted at Daerion. By now nothing was left of the wights other than ash and bones.”It is over!”

The dragon reared his head once more, but before finally ceasing his assault.

Jon bridged the rest of the distance and smoothed his gloved hand over Daerion’s head.

“You did well!” he complimented the dragon, a hoarse laugh leaving his mouth.”You did well!”

**…**

**Storm’s End, Eleventh Month of AC 301**

**Viserys**

Storm’s End was brimming with guests, though Viserys wondered why Steffon Baratheon chose this place for his wedding. He may be the Lord of the Stormlands, but his wife-to-be was a Princess of House Targaryen. Given how much Aegon likes the Lord of the Stormlands he expected a wedding in King’s Landing. Even a wedding in Casterly Rock came to his mind, but Storm’s End was the last place he would choose for a wedding.

When he asked Rhaenys about it she only laughed. _Steffon thinks it will help to endear the Stormlords to me. That is why I agreed._

Yet Viserys kept his opinion to himself and was determined to play his part. He was now the Prince of Dorne and he had no intention to disappoint his wife. He wanted her here at his side, but the death of her father was sudden and she had her duties to attend to.

The wedding ceremony was short and simple, so unlike to someone of Lannister blood.

_Well, he his name is Baratheon, but he looks like a Lannister._

That Tywin Lannister was not attending the wedding of his own grandson irked Viserys even more. When he dared to ask Lord Steffon about it the young man had kindly informed him that his grandfather has important obligations that keep him away. Viserys didn’t know what to make of that, but then he was not someone who liked to delve into other people’s business.

“Mother, Maiden, Smith, Warrior, Stranger…,” the bride and the groom repeated while the Septon wound their hands together with a silken cloth.

“Thus Steffon of House Baratheon and Lannister and Princess Rhaenys of House Targaryen are one flesh and one soul. Cursed he may be, who means to tear them apart.”

Steffon Baratheon graced everyone with a brilliant smile as he leaned down to place a quick kiss on Rhaenys’ lips.

Most would have mistaken Steffon Baratheon’s smile for a happy one, but to Viserys it looked feigned.

Brushing those thoughts away he followed after the procession, one of Margaerys’ cousins walking at his side. The attendance of the Tyrell family was meagre, but that was no surprise. Mace Tyrell always perceived Tywin as a competitor, but Queen Margaery could hardly refuse to bring at least a handful of her family members.

Megga, Margaerys’ cousin spoke like a waterfall. Visery was barely able to get out a full sentence and was relieved when he was seated far away from the young maid.

Instead he was given a seat of honour next to King Aegon and Queen Margaery.

As always, Queen Margaery was smiling and conversing with everyone.

It seems the marks of her supposed miscarriage were long forgotten, though Viserys observed little warmth between Aegon and his Queen.

They hardly spoke with each other and danced only briefly, though Viserys knew Aegon to be an excellent dancer.

Only when Aegon conversed with Lord Steffon and his sister did a smile slip over the King’s lips. Later he danced with Rhaenys, but soon returned his sister into her husband’s arms.

“Rhaenys looks as beautiful as Queen Elia,” Quentyn Martell remarked and was about to drown his third cup, another sign of his ill-mood.

It was nothing new. Quentyn has been like this this since Aegon’s coronation ceremony.

When Viserys had asked Arianne about it she had informed him that Quentyn got Lord Yronwood’s daughter with child, much to the displeasure to the of girl’s father.

Arianne was torn on the matter. She professed happiness for her brother, but disapproved of the tension caused between House Martell and House Yronwood.

_Lord Yronwood wants me to arrange a match between Trystane and his daughter,_ she had told him and Viserys had agreed with the idea. It would please both sides, but Quentyn apparently voiced his disagreement and had a rather angry argument with Arianne.

Brushing those thoughts away he nodded his head and forced a smile over his lips.

“I agree. Steffon Baratheon is a lucky man,” Viserys agreed, but no smile showed on Quentyn’s lips.

“That sounds as if you wished to wed her yourself,” his brother-in-law remarked. Viserys was taken back by his comment and it took him a moment to find an appropriate reply.

“She is my niece…,” Viserys countered.

“As if that ever mattered to your kin,” Quentyn scoffed.”Your sister proved that.”

“My sister?” he whispered and leaned closer.”What are you trying to imply?”

Quentyn laughed bitterly.

”Do you think me a complete fool? Do you think I didn’t know that she fucked your nephew?”

Viserys knew it was the truth, but he couldn’t help but to defend his sister.

“This is not the place…,” he countered and graced his brother-in-law with a dark look.”Your sister was no maid when she came to my bed. That doesn’t mean anything.”

Quentyn laughed bitterly and emptied his cup.

“True, my sister Arianne fucked almost every male being in my father’s service,” he added, his dark eyes fixed on Viserys.”But she at least pretends to like you.”

Viserys felt like slapped an insult lingering on the tip of his tongue, but then Queen Margaery joined them, her face flushed and a bright smile curling on her lips.

“You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you, my Queen?” Aegon remarked quietly and took a sip from his cup of wine.”But you should rest more…you know what the Maester said.”

In the blink of a moment Margaery’s smile was banished from her lips. Viserys felt bad for Margaery and made his disagreement known.

“Aegon…,” Viserys muttered chidingly, but his nephew ignored him like always. Viserys knew the reason for his coldness, but it still affected him. “This is a wedding…it should be a happy day.”

“I don’t think this matter concerns you, Uncle,” Aegon replied and feigned a smile when Rhaenys winked at him. She was still dancing.

Then Aegon shifted his attention back to his Queen.

“Now sit down my Queen and rest!” Aegon said, but it sounded more like an order. Queen Margaery pursed her lips and took her seat beside her husband.

Viserys graced her with an assuring smile, hoping to lift her spirits.

“My wife and I are also consulting a Maester,” Viserys told her.”I am sure you will soon have a little Prince.”

A hesitant smile curled on Queen Margaery’s lips and she touched his arm beneath the table.

“I thank you for your kind words,” she replied softly.”Your Queen values your loyalty.”

Then she jerked her head towards the dance floor.

“You are not much of a dancer are you, Prince Viserys?”

“No, I am not, your Grace,” he replied and smiled.”Much to my Lady wife’s dismay.”

His remark earned him a chuckle from his Queen.

“Well, it seems her beauty is not the only thing Rhaenys shares with her Dornish relatives…even grim Renly Baratheon is smiling tonight. It is a true rarity to see him smile.”

Viserys hardly knew Renly Baratheon. He only knew that he spent his childhood as Tywin Lannister’s hostage. He was a good-looking man and only recently made a member of the Kingsguard. Most people in Dorne had called it a shame, but Viserys wasn’t surprised. The poor fellow burned to death by Jaehaeron needed to be replaced, though Ser Barristan’s and Ser Arthur’s places remained empty. Viserys supposed Aegon was too busy to find a replacement.

“Do you know Renly Baratheon well?” he asked the Queen, lacking a better topic of conversation.

“Not really,” Margaery whispered and leaned closer.”But I saw him fight. He is an excellent swordsman…even my brother says so.”

Viserys nodded his head, opening his mouth to speak, but then the music stopped playing and the bedding was called.

Clapping and cheers could be heard as both his niece and her husband were led out of the hall. He spotted Steffon Baratheon escorted by the sons of the Stormlands. Princess Rhaenys’ ladies showed a greater variety. There were Margaerys’ cousins, several ladies of the Stormlands and of course Lady Shireen Baratheon, Steffon Baratheon’s only sister. She was a lovely girl and not even the greyscale scar littering the right side of her face was able to dim her beauty inherited from her Lady mother, Cersei Lannister.

Viserys, Aegon, Margaery and Quetyn remained seated while the musicians played up another song.

The melody was slightly familiar, but Viserys was unable to place it. He had no great knowledge about music…

“A rather strange song for a wedding…,” Margaery remarked, her voice laced with amusement.

_The Rains of Castamere_ , Viserys finally recalled.

The music swelled and the drums started to join in. The sound of it was not pleasant and left him with an eerie feeling, a feeling nobody seemed to share.

Queen Margaery continued sipping on her wine. Quentyn frowned and Aegon continued to listen to the music.

It happened all so quickly, the snapping of crossbows and quarrels drowning out the voices of the guests. One hit Aegon right in the shoulder and the other snapped past Viserys’ face.

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest and Margaery’s cry made his right ear bleed. Viserys didn’t hesitate for another second and grabbed her shoulder, pulling the Queen under the table.

For a brief moment, Viserys closed his eyes, panic washing over him as he listened to the cries around him. When he opened his eyes again, he had Margaery in his arms, a sharp pain piercing through his shoulder.

He hadn’t even noticed the quarrel.

“Calm yourself!” he told Margaery, who was luckily unharmed. Making use of the moment, he angled his head to search for Quentyn, but he found him still seated, unmoving and blood dripping on the floor beneath his feet.

Aegon, was on his feet, his arm and feet pierced by quarrels as the cries of the guests were drowned out by the music.

Viserys felt as if he woke up in a nightmare.

Margaery was deadly silent, but the trembling of her body against his told him that she was still conscious.

“Get the King!” he heard Ser Oswell Whent’s shout, who cut down several men along the way, not caring if they were highborn or not. Ser Hightower was equally unhinged, beheading a member of House Estermont with a clear cut of his blade. A quarrel was sticking in his shoulder, his blood leaving river of crimson on his white cloak.”Get the King to safety!”

Viserys was unable to move. He felt like a helpless child and it made him wish that he trained with Jon.

_He always wanted to train with you, but you refused him. Lazy fool._

Finally, Ser Thomas Estermont and Renly Baratheon joined, cutting down men left and right, their blades soiled with blood.

Viserys saw the sheer relief displayed on Ser Oswell’s face, but it was all a lie.

Ser Oswell was barely able to react before Steffon Baratheon’s man buried is blade in Ser Oswell’s chest. Renly was even quicker, his blade cutting Ser Hightower open like butter.

Ser Oswell collapsed to the ground, a puddle of blood spreading over the floor. Ser Hightower was on his knees, his teeth gritted in pain.

“Traitor!” he seethed, but Renly buried his blade one last time, before wrenching it free.”Traitor…!”

Aegon was crouching on the ground and Margaery wiggling in Viserys’ arms. Her head was buried in the crook of his neck, but Viserys didn’t let her go.

“Why?” he heard Aegon’s voice, raw with pain.”Why?”

Renly Baratheon smiled.

“For my brothers!” he said and buried the blade in Aegon’s chest.”Robert and Stannis!”

Viserys closed his eyes to the horror. He heard Margaerys’ sobbing and Aegon’s grunt of pain.

…

**Daenerys**

**Sunspear, Twelfth Month of AC 301**

Dany watched Jaehaeron fly his circles above the Dornish skies. His cries could be heard throughout all of Sunspear and at times Dany wanted to cover her ears. A week ago they heard of the butchery that occurred during Steffon Baratheon’s wedding. At first her Lady mother refused to believe it, but more and more ravens came, confirming the grisly murder.

The King is dead. Viserys is dead. Her husband is dead. Queen Margaery is now a hostage and Rhaenys now a Queen by Tywin Lannister’s will.

For Dany it was a hard blow to hear about Viserys’ death, but for her mother it was much worse. She lost her two grandsons and two sons in less than two years.

Shortly after her Lady mother collapsed and since then the Maester had kept her asleep with daily spoons of sweet sleep.

Dorne itself was still frozen shock. Daenerys didn’t know what was going on inside Princess Arianne’s council chambers, but Dany was sure that they are planning a war. A war against Tywin Lannister and his grandson, the supposed instigator of this bloodshed, though nobody really knew what really happened.

All they had were rumours and Tywin Lannister’s declaration of lies. He officially accused a few wayward Stormlords of the murder while his grandson was supposedly only an innocent associate of the crime.

Daenerys always knew that the old Lion was power-hungry, but that he would dare to murder his King was a shock to her. Viserys, another obstacle for his grandson’s ascension to the throne had to die too. It was all too clear what happened, but nobody expected it.

Dany may have no proof for her theory, but she was convinced that Jon’s removal was another part in Tywin Lannister’s plan.

And Doran Martell and Mace Tyrell, the two fools, l agreed enthusiastically when they sent Jon away.

The Old lion played them all and now they stand before the shambles of the Targaryen dynasty.

The thought made her grit her teeth, her eyes darting back to Jaehaeron. He had grown aggressive over the last weeks and Dany believed that he was grieving for Viserys.

Viserys never dared to get too close to the dragon, but he was often there to watch him. Maybe Jaehaeron considered him part of his kin or maybe he just felt the sharp sting of grief like her Lady Mother and Dany herself.

“Viserys…my boy!” she heard her Lady mother’s whispering. Dany exhaled deeply and shifted her attention to her mother, moving in her sleep.

Dany rose to her feet and moved to her bedside, before leaning down to put a kiss on her head.

“I am here,” she whispered to her Lady mother”I am here.”

Dany hated it to feel this helpless and her gaze darted back to the dragon.

_I could try mounting him_ , she thought not for the first time, but her doubts were holding her back. The dragon may allow her to feed him, but Dany knew next to nothing about raising dragons.

Yet she wanted to do nothing more than to climb on the dragon and burn Tywin to a crisp of ash. She may have hated Aegon and was never able to love Quentyn, but Viserys deserved to be revenged and Rhaenys deserved to be saved.

“Princess…,” the soft voice of one of Princess Arianne’s ladies snapped her out of her thoughts. „I apologize…”

Daenerys turned around and forced a smile over her lips.

“What can I do for Princess Arianne?”

“My mistress wants to speak alone with you, Princess,” the girl explained and lowered her.

Daenerys nodded her head.

“Very well, I am coming,” she replied.”My Lady mother needs her rest.”

“Please follow after me, Princess,” the girl added softly and opened the door for Dany.

Arianne was already waiting for her, but Prince Oberyn’s presence surprised her. The man never held a very high opinion of her and usually avoided her presence. The last time she spoke to him was on her own wedding, but that felt almost like a lifetime ago.

_Quentyn is dead. I am no longer married_ , she knew but the guilt was still there clenching around her heart.

“Daenerys,” Arianne greeted her, a painful smile crossing over her lips. Her dress of shiny black silk reflected her mood.”How is your Lady mother?”

“Unchanged,” Daenerys replied and lowered her head in greeting.”I am surprised to find you here, Prince Oberyn. I thought you would rather stay with your daughters and Lady Ellaria.”

“Ellaria understands my absence,” he replied stiffly, but Dany ignored it and took a seat at the polished table made of white wood.

“Why did you call for me?” Dany asked and brushed her hand over the flower arrangement placed on the table.

“To speak about the future,” Arianne explained hesitatingly, her dark eyes wet with tears.

“Then let us speak about the future,” Dany replied, met Arianne’s gaze.”I am not a politician, but Aegon’s daughter is the rightful heir. Dorne is not strong enough to fight the Stormlands and the Westerlands, but united with the Reach we would be able to put Tywin Lannister in place, though it remains to be seen what the other kingdoms will decide.”

Yet her assessment didn’t seem to please Oberyn Martell.

“The Fat Flower of Highgarden is not going to sacrifice his precious daughter. Aegon’s daughter is girl and there are rumours that she isn’t even his child. Nonsense, I say, but you know how disastrous such rumours can be. Besides, Mace Tyrell has yet to forgive me for crippling his son. You know what a prideful man he is.”

“The rumours about Aegon’s daughter were probably spread by Tywin Lannister himself,” Dany remarked.”And he profits the most from a continuing feud between House Tyrell and House Martell.”

“I agree with Princess Daenerys,” Arianne said and nodded her head in confirmation.”My father always disliked the idea of a Tyrell Queen and neglected to put an end to this silly feud between our houses. Tywin is trying to make use of that.”

“I don’t understand…,” Prince Oberyn trailed off.

“Have you never wondered why Tywin agreed to Daenerys and Quentyn’s marriage?” Arianne asked her Uncle.”Everybody knew that Mace Tyrell wanted her to wed his heir Willas, but it was Tywin who argued against and supported my father’s position. Back then I thought it was because he simply wanted to spite Mace, but now I think his real intention was to fuel the feud reigning between the Tyrells and the Martells.”

Oberyn Martell’s eyes widened, his eyes flickering to Dany.

“How dare you,” the Prince grumbled.”How dare poison my niece’s mind with such lies?”

“Poising her mind?” Daenerys asked, a bitter laugh escaping her lips.”Your family never failed to poison mine with your stubborn grudges and your greed for power. If you and your family hadn’t nursed Aegon’s hatred against his own brother.“

“Don’t speak about this boy in my presence!” Prince Oberyn seethed.”He is dead and gone…”

“Uncle…!” Arianne called out, but Prince Oberyn ignored her.

Daenerys was beyond caring. She had faced Aegon’s dragon and lost half her family.

“Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen!” she declared loudly.”He was my brother’s second son. You cannot deny his existence. I always felt for Princess Elia, but you blamed all her misery on my nephew, because Lyanna Stark died before you could destroy her too. I wonder…How many years would she have lived before she died from a poisoned cake?”

“She was a whore!” Prince Oberyn countered.”And your brother was even worse. But you are right…I would have made sure that she finds a miserable end.”

“Finally, we can finally speak honest with each other,” Dany replied.”Not that it matters. They are all gone. All that remains is us, but it needed to be said.”

“I agree,” Arianne added and brushed her Uncle’s shoulder.”We need to work together if we want to help Rhaenys.”

Then she turned back to Dany.”You have a dragon.”

“I have a young dragon that could be easily killed. Even the mighty dragon Maraxes was killed and he was much older and bigger than my dragon. And there is still Aegon’s dragon. Who knows what Steffon Baratheon will do with him…he has Targaryen blood.”

“There is another way,” Oberyn remarked.”You have a son…a male heir is stronger than a female one. You said we should mend the feud between House Martell and House Tyrell…We could offer to betroth your boy to Aegon’s daughter. This would please both sides.” “

Daenerys shuddered, guilt cutting deeper than steel.

“No,” she refused.”I don’t want my son anywhere near this ugly chair. It cost my family too much…what I meant is that you apologize to Mace Tyrell and ask for reconciliation. I heard from Lady Margaery that you and Willas Tyrell are on friendly terms…write to him and I am sure he will help to convince his father. I am sure they will fight with you as long as you promise to support Princess Eleana’s claim.”

“You are acting as if the boy belongs only to you…he is Quentyn’s son and thus a Prince of Dorne,” Prince Oberyn protested, but Arianne cut him off.

“I agree with Princess Daenerys,” Arianne came to her rescue.”We should reconcile with Lord Tyrell and support Princess Eleana’s claim. That is why will send you as head of an envoy to Highgarden. I want you to ask for Lord Tyrell’s forgiveness and I want you to tell him that we are prepared to fight against Lannister and Baratheon usurpers.”

“You can’t expect that of me,” Prince Oberyn protested.”I already apologized to Willas Tyrell, but I will not crawl in the dust before Mace Tyrell.”

“I am your Princess and you will do as I ask,” Arianne replied firmly.

A moment of heavy silence followed, before Prince Oberyn lowered his head in acceptance.

“Very well. I will leave when it pleases you, my Princess.”

Then he left, his anger apparent by the way he closed the door behind him.

“Thank you,” Daenerys replied and shifted her attention back to Arianne.

“Don’t thank me, I didn’t do it for you,” Arianne replied coldly.”I know the truth about the boy…”

Daenerys froze.

“You know?” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.”How?”

“How?” Arianne repeated, her dark eyes glinting with anger.”Do you think I am as stupid as the rest of them? I know what my brother looked like as a child. The boy looks nothing like him.”

“But why…,” Dany stuttered.

“Because my Uncle would have murdered you and because you are my friend. Still, the way you treated my brother was not right. Now is your chance to make it up to me. Help me.”

“How?” Dany asked and meant it.

“I want you to go North. I want you to convince Eddard Stark to join us. He dislikes Tywin just as much as we do and if the rumours are true then his son is no longer a hostage. I don’t know what the Vale and the Riverlands will do, but Eddard Stark would support his nephew’s son.”

“Brandon Stark was freed?” she asked and wrinkled her brows in disbelief.”When?”

“No long ago…at least that is what the rumours say. Aegon tried to hide it as long as possible, but we won’t know the truth until you speak to Eddard Stark.”

“But my son is a bastard…,” Dany protested.”I don’t know…”

“True, but Princess Eleana is a trueborn Targaryen…a marriage to her will legitimize him. What matters is that we get Eddard Stark into the fold. The Lord of the North has connections to the Vale and the Riverlands. Even Mace Tyrell will have to understand that the claim of his granddaughter is not enough to convince the other kingdoms. It could also help to mend the wounds your brother caused by his affair with Lyanna Stark.”

“I could try,” Dany replied.

Arianne smiled in relief.

“Good,” Arianne said, relief washing over her face.”I will send for a ship to…,” she continued, but Dany shook her head.

“I will take the dragon…I think it is time.”

**…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Daenerys**

**Sunspear, Twelfth Month of AC 301**

She found Aemon awake as she made her way to search her strongbox for warmer clothing.

Then she pulled off her summer dress and put on a warm wool dress, followed by warm leggings, boots and a pelted cloak.

Aemon laughed and clapped his hands when she picked him out of his crib. Then she started to dress him in the warmest clothes he owned, before wrapping him in one of her pelted cloaks.

He frowned at that and wriggled, but a few soothing words were enough to keep him still, before she shouldered the rest of her belongings and made her way to her Lady mother’s chambers. She was still asleep, a servant girl keeping watch over her.

Dany placed kiss on her head and turned to the girl.

“I want you to take good care of her until I return,” she told the girl, who lowered her head in understanding.”Will you do that for me?”

“Of course, Princess.”

Jaehaeron stirred from his sleep as they approached.

“Jagon,” Aemon exclaimed and pointed at the dragon.”Hello!”

“Quiet,” she whispered to Aemon and felt the warm breath of the dragon tickling her skin.

“Jaehaeron!” she called out to the creature. As always he shrieked and lowered his head, his ruby eyes piercing her through the darkness.

Aemon leaned forward, stretching his hand out towards the dragon as if to pat his head.

“Careful…,” she whispered to her boy, her feet wobbly as she made her way towards the dragon’s back.

Jaehaeron noticed her behaviour and threw plumes of smoke into the air, but when he heard Aemon’s laughter he stopped and leaned down to graze his head against his tiny hand.

“We don’t want to hurt you…but we need to fly North,” she explained in High Valyrian as she started to climb up the dragon’s back, Aemon in her arms.

Her heart was beating furiously and she feared that the dragon might throw the off, but Jaehaeron remained calm, his ruby eyes following her every movement.

“Here we are…,” she said with a trembling voice.”I know you like it here…but we need to go North. North…Do you understand?”

The dragon made no attempt to move. Dany sighed and pulled the hood of Aemon’s cloak back from his face.

“Aemon…Do you recall our game?” she asked the boy, who nodded his head. She assumed this gesture signified agreement.

“Game…!” he gurgled happily.

“Say Soves,” she asked of Aemon. It was a game she used to teach him High Valyrian.

“Soves!”the boy replied happily. “Soves!”

Dany nearly slipped as the dragon reared his back, but the relief was greater when the dragon started to move. Then Jaehaeron flapped his wings and soared into the air.

Dany laughed and held Aemon close, pointing ahead.

“Now Aemon…say Jelmor…Jelmor!”

“Jelmor…Jelmor!” her boy repeated and the dragon changed directions. How he was able to understand mystified her, but then dragons are probably much smarter than most humans.

Not that it mattered to her. She was finally free and put her trust in the dragon **.**

**…**

**Jon**

**Beyond the Wall, Twelfth Month of AC 301**

“A Crow!” he heard the sound of child-like voices echoing in his ears.”A Crow!”

The snowball hit him on the back of his head. It was nothing more than a dull feeling of pain, but soon another one hit him straight in the face.

“Eat snow, Crow!” a Wildling girl cried out, her high voice echoing over the crowd of people lining up along the pathway leading along tents and other dwellings made of leather and wood. Elevated on a hill Jon spotted a tent three times the size of the others. He didn’t know why, but his gut-feeling told him that this was the home of the King-Beyond-the-Wall.

Jon brushed the snow from his neck and turned around. He knew felt Daerion’s presence before he was there. It was a tingling feeling surging through him whenever his dragon was close.

The swishing of dragon’s wings was accompanied by a roar and plumes of flames rising in the air.

Jon heard children shriek, men grabbing for their spears while others stood frozen in shock as the dragon swooped over the camp.

Jon closed his eyes and searched the dragon’s mind like he had done a hundred times before.

“Keep away!” he whispered to this dragon.”Keep away!”

He opened his eyes and sighed in relief when the dragon obeyed his command, disappearing behind the snow-covered peaks.

Now the nosy children were hiding behind their mother’s skirts.

Whispering and mistrustful looks followed him through the camp, but he tried to ignore them.

“Don’t fret about it, Crow Prince,” Val assured him and threw a smile over her shoulder.”They are used to the sight of giants and they will get used to your dragon, especially after they realize that your dragon can kill wights.”

Jon nodded his head, but frowned when he heard his nickname.

“I prefer to be called Jon,” he replied and Val bared her teeth.”Well then, I will call you Jon Crowprince…If that pleases you?”

Jon sighed and rubbed his neck.

“Jon is enough,” he replied and earned himself a chuckle.

“I think Mance’s going to like you,” Ygritte added, her arm slung around Torreg’s shoulder. She got hurt during the battle and was barely able to walk.

Torreg looked also battered, the wound on his head still bleeding.

 _I hope he will accept my help_ , Jon hoped and graced the young woman a smile. For some reason she reminded him Arya. She always spoke her mind, not caring what other people thought of her.

It made him long to see his cousin again.

 _I will see him soon_ , he told himself.

 _They will think me an oathbreaker_ , he knew, but then he had a dragon and his Uncle never approved that he was forced in the Night’s Watch. He also doubted that Eddard Stark would simply ignore his warnings about the Others.

 _He will believe me_ , he was sure and continued to follow after his companions.

“Do you think your dragon would allow me to fly on his back?” Freya, Tormund’s girl asked him shyly.

“Maybe,” Jon replied, but was unsure if his dragon would accept another passenger. He never asked the Three-Eyed-Raven about this topic. Besides, his dragon was barely strong enough to carry him. Another passenger would be too much, at least for now.”I will think about it.”

She grinned from one ear to the other and nearly jumped into the air, before joining her father’s side.

“Did you hear?” she asked her father.”The Crow Prince will ask his dragon to take me flying…”

“We will see about that,” Tormund replied and patted her shoulder.”We will see about that, lass.”

It was Val who led the way, opening the flap of the tent sewn out small parts of leather and painted with colourful symbols.

Inside they found a spacious room, decked out with warm furs, a warm brazier keeping the tent warm.

A woman was there, dressed in grey pelt, her blond hair kept in a long braid. Jon immediately noticed the strong resemblance to Val, though this woman looked a little older, her stomach swollen with child. Not far from her workspace he spotted a crib, a plump baby boy eying them with wide blue eyes.

“Sister!” the woman greeted Val, a bright smile playing on her lips as she rose to her feet. Val bridged the distance and embraced the slightly shorter woman, before placing several kisses on her cheek.

“The gods be blessed!” the other woman whispered and again.”You were gone for so long…we feared the worst.”

“Una and Old Garth are dead, Dalla,” Val replied, her voice ringing with sadness.

Dalla gasped.

“Crows?”

“No, one of the Others and a swarm of wights attacked us,” Tormund explained.”They nearly killed, but he Crow boy helped us.”

Dalla looked stunned, her blue eyes searching his face.

“A crow helped you? And he defeated one of the Others? How?”

“That strange sword of his did it,” Ygritte added quickly and sat down next to the warm cookfire. Torreg joined her and sniffed at the food.

“What are you cooking?” he asked.”Smells good.”

“It is nearly finished,” Dalla replied quickly, her blue eyes still fixed at Jon.”I thank you for helping Val and the others.”

“Well, the Crow didn’t do it alone…he has a dragon,” Jarl added and took a seat on the opposing side of the cookfire.

“A dragon?” Dalla asked, her face full of disbelief as she turned to look at Jarl.”Did you hit your head?”

“He is not lying,” Frey added, her face alight with amusement.”The others saw him too…maybe Jon can call him back and show you.”

“Later, lass,” Tormund said and patted her shoulder, before shifting his attention back to Dalla.

“Where is Mance…,” he began and as if conjured, a man slipped through a door concealed by curtains. The King-Beyond-the –Wall was a slender man of middling height, but broad in chest and shoulders. His long brown hair, framing his sharp face had turned mostly grey, but the smile crinkling at the corners of his lips made him appear younger than his years.

“Tormund!” he greeted and bridged the distance, before patting the other man’s shoulder.”It relieves me to see you alive…Dalla feared the worst.”

Tormund laughed.

“I am not easily killed…you should know that,” he replied and grinned.”Sadly, Una and Old Garth didn’t make it.”

Sadness showed on the Mance’s face.

“How did it happen?”

“One of the Others found us,” Val explained and jerked his head at Jon.”This Crow killed the Other with his shiny blade and his dragon burned the wights to ash. He is no common crow, but the son of the Dragon King.”

The emotions displayed on Mance Ryder’s face could only be described as shock and disbelief.

“A dragon?” he asked, his gaze wandering to Jon.”Are you taking me for a fool?”

Jon tried not to blink under his piercing gaze.

“No, your Grace,” he replied.”Nobody is trying to fool you. I can show you my dragon, but that is not the reason I came here…”

The use of “your Grace” earned him howling laughter from the Wildlings, but Dalla’s sharp look silenced them quickly.

“Why are you here?” Mance asked him, his face softening and realization showing on his face.”Of course, you are the younger son. The son of the Stark girl…,” he trailed off.

“My mother was Lyanna Stark my father Rhaegar Targaryen…both are dead,” he confirmed.”My brother rules now and I was forced to join the Watch. Yet that is not the reason I came here…the reason are the Others. I want to help the Free Folk.”

“Help the Free Folk?” Mance asked, his voice laced with bitterness.”Your Lord Father strengthened the Night’s Watch. We still intend to fight, but I hold not much love for your family, boy.”

“I don’t expect of you to like me, but my intentions are honest. I want to help the Free Folk. I don’t want to sit back and watch the numbers of these dead men grow…your people need to cross the Wall.”

“And you think that is possible?” Dalla asked, her hand resting on her swollen belly. Her gaze was alight with hope that made his heart clench.

“Maybe,” he replied. He didn’t want to lie to them.”My Uncle is the Warden of the North…I am sure he will believe me.”

“Your Uncle may believe you,” Mance Ryder replied.”But Your Uncle’s Lords will not tolerate Wildlings in their lands. They hate us far too much…”

“I am not going to lie to you…it will not be easy to convince them,” Jon admitted.”But isn’t it worth a try? By attacking the Wall you will only make it worse…the Lords of the North will hunt your people like animals. That is why I intend to speak with my Uncle…I am sure we can find a compromise that pleases both sides.”

“Very well,” Mance replied.”What about your brother?”

Mance’s question silenced him. He had no idea what Aegon would do, but to help the Wildlings was more important than to nurse grudges.

“My brother hates me. He is the reason I had to join the Night’s Watch, but my Uncle is a good man…he will listen to me. I know you have no reason to trust me, but this matter doesn’t only concern the Free Folk, but all of us. I know how powerful the enemy is. If we don’t stop them all of us will die.”

“Well spoken, boy,” Mance Ryder agreed, his shrewd brown eyes resting on Jon.”I am even inclined to believe you, but only if you are prepared to answer another question. Tell me, what are you truly fighting for?”

A moment of heavy silence followed, before as Jon searched for the right words.

“There was a girl I loved…that I still love…she will die if the White Walkers make it pass the Wall. That is what I am fighting for.”

“That sounds much more honest,” Mance Ryder replied, a smile playing on Mance’s lips.

Jon swallowed hard.

“Does that mean you agree to my suggestion?”

“I do…it is not like I have much to lose,” Mance replied and nodded his head in confirmation.”But I can’t wait forever, lad. The enemy is close at our heels and winter is almost upon us….,” he continued, but Jon cut him off before he was able to find more reasons to disagree.

“I know that, but I have a dragon. It will only take me a few days to reach the Wall and maybe another day or two to reach Winterfell.”

“Maybe,” Mance Ryder remaked.”But these Northmen are stubborn. If you fail I will have no other choice, but to march to the Wall.”

Jon swallowed hard. If the Wildlings cross this line his Uncle will have no other choice than to fight them.

“I will leave tomorrow and I promise to return within a moon. Move slowly and all should be well.”

“Keep your promises to yourself, boy,” Mance replied.”Your word is enough to me.”

Then Mance shifted his attention to Dalla.

“It seems we have another guest tonight,” he told.

Dalla laughed, crinkles showing her face.

“Don’t fret about it, I think we have enough for another mouth,” she replied and continued to stir the fire. The smell was delicious.

Jon smiled and accepted Mance’s offer.

“Aye, a warm meal would be appreciated.”

…

**Daenerys**

**Winterfell, Twelfth Month of AC 301**

Snow and ice. Trees and castles. That was all she saw on her way to the North.

The cold was the worst. It felt as if thousands of needles were burning her face.

Aemon shared her dislike for the cold, but when Jaehaeron curled around them at night they felt only warmth.

For two weeks they had travelled. The cold exhausted Jaehaeron and he has yet to get used to the additional weight, but at least he was staring to take orders from her. No longer did she have to trick her son to give the commands.

It gave her hope. It meant that she might have a chance to free Rhaenys and revenge for Viserys.

Most would certainly call her the Mad King’s daughter, but she was beyond caring.

She will never forgive Viserys’ murder.

Finally, more than three weeks since her departure from Dorne she found the castle matching Winterfell’s descriptions.

Grey walls and towers made of granite touched the sky. The sight made her heart sing.

It felt like an eternity until they soared over a small town not far away from the castle. Even high up in the air she felt the people’s eyes resting on her.

And how could they not? Nobody had seen a dragon in more than a hundred years.

 _Maybe I could fly to the Wall_ , she wondered not for the first time. They told her that Jon died, but they never brought her a body to burn.

Maybe he is still alive, hiding beyond the Wall. Maybe he just ran away, because he hated it there. She wouldn’t fault him if he did, even if others call him an oathbreaker for it.

What do oaths matter these days? Nothing. Men swear them and forsake them in the same breath. They are nothing more than empty words if not backed by honest intentions. And Jon never meant to leave her willingly…

Even her marriage to Quentyn was never true. The vow she gave was false and they both knew it.

She regretted his death, but she always planned to leave him once Jaehaeron allowed her to mount him. Yet it was only Tywin’s Lannisters butchery that gave her the final push to leave.

“Ilagon!” she told the dragon, her voice brimming with new-found confidence.” Ilagon!”

Instantly the dragon dipped downwards towards the castle. He was certainly small enough to land in the courtyard, but she didn’t want to frighten the inhabitants of Winterfell more than necessary.

“Paez!”she told the dragon, while Aemon continued to sleep in her arms.”Paez!”

Instantly the dragon slowed down and landed on the ground, whirling up snow and mud alike.

“Sȳz!” she told the dragon and smoothed her hand over his head, which seemed to please him greatly.”Sȳz!”

Carefully she climbed down and Aemon stirred from his sleep.

He hid his curly head in the crook of her neck, probably to ward of the cold.

“Soon we will have a warm hearth,” she assured him and found herself back on solid ground, though it was a bit slippery due to the snow and ice.

She let her gaze sweep over her surroundings and found herself maybe a few hundred feet away from the main gate. As she moved closer she saw people pouring through the gate, their eyes wide like saucers.

She exhaled deeply and moved closer, trying to appear brave.

“Daenerys!” a youthful voice exclaimed happily and only a moment later she found herself nearly crushed to the ground. The surprise tore a whimper from Aemon’s mouth and she had to rock him to cam him down.

It was Arya Stark, her hair dishevelled as always and full of snowflakes.

“Arya…,” she began, but the girl didn’t allow her to speak.

“You are truly here…I can’t believe it!” she babbled happily, her eyes darting to the dragon and then back to her.”And you have a dragon…What is his name? Did you fly all the way?”

“His name is Jaehaeron,” she explained quickly and patted Arya’s shoulder, before pulling down the hood of Aemon’s cloak.”And this is Aemon.”

“Like the Dragonknight,” Arya said and beamed from one ear to the other.”Father said that you have a son…” she continued, but Eddard Stark’s sudden appearance made her stop.

Dany swallowed hard as she met his gaze.

She hardly knew him.

“Princess Daenerys,” he greeted politely and lowered his head in greeting.”Your visit is a surprise…and your dragon even more so.”

She smiled tightly.

“It was a long travel…I came here to speak with you in an urgent matter…Do I have your hospitality?”

A moment of silence passed, before the hint of a smile washed over his lips.

“Jon was fond of you…you have my hospitality, Princess.”

She felt relief washing over her, tears burning in her eyes.

“I thank you, my Lord,” she replied and jerked her head at the dragon.”I assure you…he will not harm your people, but he needs food. The game was meagre and we didn’t want to get too close to the castles.”

“I will arrange everything, Princess, but now come in side. You must be freezing,” he replied, his eyes flickering to Aemon and then back to her.

The warmth engulfing her as she stepped in the Great Hall felt pleasant on her skin.

“I have a surprise for you,” the Lord of the North explained, a smile curling on his lips as his gaze darted to the group of people seated on the High table. The other inhabitants of the castle had stopped their activities and were observing them.

Dany gasped when she saw the young boy sitting there at the table next to Robb Stark.

Brandon Stark, red-haired and blue-eyed smiled back at her. Yet it was the presence of another familiar face that surprised her even more.

“Ser Arthur,” she whispered.

What Arianne told her was true.

“It is good to see you again, Princess Daenerys,” he greeted, his eyes heavy with sadness.

_He knows._

“Good Sir!” she gasped and bridged the distance.”What are you doing here?”

“I was supposed to join the Night’s Watch, something I still intend to do, but I decided to stay a while longer.”

Dany was torn between crying and laughing.”I don’t know what to say…”

“We were all speechless when we heard what transpired in Storm’s End,” Lady Ysilla Royce, Robbs Lady wife added softly, her hair falling around her like shroud of gold.”You have my sympathies, Princess Daenerys.”

“Is it true?” Brandon Stark asked.”Is it true that they killed Viserys?”

“Aye,” she replied and stepped closer. She graced the young boy and Robb Stark’s wife with a smile. His young son Cregan, barely a year older than Aemon, was nibbling on a cake, curly red hair sticking in all directions.”And my niece is their hostage.”

“We heard about it. Tywin calls her and his grandson the rightful King and Queen,” Lord Stark added, his voice laced with resentment.

“Rhaenys has as strong claim, but Margaerys’ child is the rightful heir,” she countered.

“True, but Steffon Baratheon has a claim through his father’s grandmother and his marriage to Princess Rhaenys strengthens his claim,” Eddard Stark added, his grey eyes darting to Aemon.

“Your son may be born out of wedlock, Princess,” he said.”But he has Targaryen blood through his father and you.”

“You know, my Lord?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Eddard Stark smiled sadly and nodded his head in confirmation.

“I held Jon in my arms when he was a babe. The boy looks like him.”

Arthur Dayne paled visibly, his mouth opening and closing, no sound leaving his mouth.

“Is that true?”

“Aye,” she stuttered.”I know…I shouldn’t have lied…”

“Don’t fret about it Princess,” Ser Arthur said and rose to his feet, his hand brushing over her shoulder.”We all have lied to protect those we care about. There is no shame in that.”

“Ser Arthur speaks true,” Eddard Stark agreed.”I think you should rest, Princess. Then we will speak.”

“Arya…please show the Princess to one of the guestrooms…I will ask one of the servants to bring you supper,” Ysilla Royce asked of Arya.

“No guestroom,” Arya protested and grinned.”Daenerys can sleep in my room or in Sansa’s old room. I don’t think she would mind.”

“Arya…,” Lady Ysilla disagreed.”Your Lady mother wouldn’t approve…She is still in Karhold, but she entrusted me…,” she trailed off.

“I don’t mind, my Lady,” Dany insisted and graced Lady Ysilla with an honest smile.”I would even sleep on the floor as long it is warm.”

…

**Jon**

**Winterfell, Twelfth Month of AC 301**

Jon knew Winterfell only from descriptions, but the mist hovering above the walls gave the place an almost mystical appearance. It was like in one of the scary stories he liked to read as a young boy, but Jon felt no fear, only relief.

He had feared that Daerion wouldn’t be able to cross the Wall, but his worries turned out to be completely unfounded.

“Paez!” he whispered to his dragon.” Paez!”

Daerion understood what he meant and slowed down, before gently gliding to the ridge overseeing the castle. Jon had no intention to frighten the inhabitants with his presence.

“Sȳz!” he praised the dragon, before climbing down from his back.

“Stay here or you might frighten the inhabitants of the castle,” he told the dragon, but he ignored Jon and started to roar, before cocking his head left and right as if he spotted something particularly interesting.

Then, Jon heard another roar, unfamiliar and distant. He turned his head, but only found distant clouds of mist whirling over the tree tops and meadows covered in fresh-fallen snow.

Then, another roar followed. The sound made Jon’s heart skip a beat.

_Could it be another dragon?_

His question was promptly answered. Another dragon, a little smaller than Daerion, emerged from the mist, his wings black like ink and his eyes blinking like two polished rubies.

The other dragon moved closer to Daerion.

Then both dragons started to roar and they whirled around each other, rubbing their heads together. Jon didn’t know what to make of it, his head whirling with hundreds of unanswered questions.

He knew from Ser Arthur that both Rhaenys and Aegon owed an egg that could have hatched, but he doubted Aegon would ever come here.

This only left Rhaenys.

It made no sense.

_Why would Rhaenys come here to Winterfell?_

_It matters not_ , he thought and turned back to the two dragons. _I will be pleased to see her again._

“Stay away from the castle,” he told the dragon and received another roar.

Jon walked the way to the castle. In the distance he saw the outlines of a town, but he headed straight for the main gate, his heart beating furiously.

The people gave him strange looks as he passed them, but Jon ignored them and headed straight to the guards.

“My name is Jon,” he explained straight to the point.”I need to speak to Lord Eddard Stark. I am here on urgent business. May I pass?”

The two men paled when they laid eyes on him. They looked spooked and exchanged strange looks, before allowing him to pass.

It was very early in the morning, barely beyond dawn and thus the castle was mostly deserted.

Jon took his time to take in his mother’s home, searching for a familiar face.

“Jon!” a familiar voice called out. “Jon!”

Jon felt like hit by thunder, a shiver running down his spine.

He turned round, searching for the owner of the familiar voice.

He blinked once, then twice, but Jon didn’t believe his eyes. The dragon didn’t belong to Rhaenys…

It was Daenerys, though she looked different. Her hair was longer, her face thinner and she wore none of her usual bright summer dresses.

He felt like frozen to the ground, unable to speak or to move.

He feared that she might just evaporate into thin air if he moved.

Daenerys seemed to share his feelings and didn’t move from her position.

“Jon…,” she repeated in a trembling voice.”Is that your dragon?”

Then she laughed, tears running down her cheeks.

That was enough to break the spell and in the blink of an eye she was in his arms.

She giggled as he whirled her around, her hair fluttering around her like a veil.

“Is that a dream?” he asked.

She chuckled and leaned down to kiss him on the lips.

The soft touch of her lips on his was enough proof to him.

…


	9. Chapter 9

**Ned**

**Winterfell, Twelfth Month of AC 301**

His nephew looked incredible thin. That was the first thing Ned noticed when he laid eyes on his nephew. The scars littering his cheeks were even worse, but to have him here, alive and well was a great comfort to him. He believed him dead, but now the gods gave him another chance, to do right by the boy.

“Drinking helps,” Eddard Stark remarked as Jon continued slur down his food.”You just made it back. Nobody wants to see you choke on your food.”

“Aye,” Jon replied and took a gulp from his goblet, before emptying the second bowl.

Then, after the servant had carried away the plates, they retreated to Ned’s private study. Ned told him everything that had transpired in his absence. Shocked his nephew fell silent and remained like this for a long time. There were no tears shed, but Ned saw the sadness hidden behind his dark eyes.

Ned wished he could have given him more time, but there was much more they needed to talk about.

“Please tell us,” Ned began and stirred the fire in the hearth back to life.”What happened to you beyond the Wall? The Rangers didn’t find your body and the Lord Commander told us it was a Wildling attack.”

Jon swallowed hard an expression of misery washing over his face.

“We were attacked, but not by Wildlings. We were attacked by dead men and their masters…the Others.”

Ned was speechless and searched the boy’s face for a hint of madness, but found nothing but fear.

“The Others?” Robb asked, his voice laced with disbelief. „What did they look like?”

Jon shuddered visibly.

“They have skin as pale as snow and eyes as blue as frost. They have blades of milkglass that can shatter the best castle-forged steel,” he explained and pointed at the scars littering his face.”My sword was shattered and the shards buried themselves deep into my skin. I barely survived.”

“Who saved you?” Princess Daenerys asked softly „You mentioned during supper that you met a group of Wildlings.”

“No,” Jon replied and shook his head. „Someone saved me. He calls himself the Three-Eyed-Crow and resides in a cave beyond the Wall. He calls himself a greenseer and told me that he was once a man named Brynden Rivers.”

“Brynden Rivers?” Ned asked and gasped. „He would be more than a hundred years old…,” he continued, but Jon cut him off.

“He is very old, but he gave me something that proves his story,” the Jon explained, his hand wandering to the sword fastened at his belt. Carefully, he unseated the blade and laid it on the table.

“Valyrian steel!” Robb gasped and touched the smoky surface of the blade. „Is that…”

“Dark Sister,” Jon confirmed. „I know that my story sounds like utter madness, but the Others have returned. I saw them and I fought them. The Wildlings saw them too. They are desperate to escape and are marching towards the Wall.”

“Gods!” Ned muttered, dread washing over him. They had heard rumours that the King-Beyond-the-Wall has been assembling a Wildlings host, but that they are marching for the Wall was a surprise to him. That they were fleeing from creatures taken out of a fairy tale made it even worse.

“How many Wildlings are marching in Mance Ryder’s host?” Ned demanded to know.

Jon paled, but answered honestly as ever.

“At least eighty-thousand people, but half of them are women and children. They are innocents fleeing for their lives. I know I sound like a madman, but we need to help them pass the Wall or the Others will be able to increase their ever-growing army. I have already spoken to the King-Beyond-the-Wall. I told him that I will ask you for help.”

“Jon…,” Ned said, dread wishing over him.”I can’t just allow them pass the Wall. My Lords would most certainly rebel against such a decision. They have been our enemy for thousands of years.”

“The wrong enemy,” Jon insisted, frustration palpable on his face. „They don’t deserve to be damned to die beyond the Wall. They spent time with them…they are like us.”

“Nobody denies that, Jon,” Robb added gently. „But we can’t simply open the gates and allow them through. And we have to consider the political situation in the south. Tywin may be occupied, but he will demand of us to bend the knee to the new King. All of this takes time.”

“I understand,” Jon replied and nodded his head. „But we don’t have much time. I fought the Others, but even I can’t say what else they are capable of. If are able to breach the Wall the North will be hit first and then the rest of Westeros. Every dead man on our side is an additional soldier on their side. Common steel cannot harm them…only dragonglass and Valyrian steel and the dead men…they can be killed by fire. We have two dragons, but they are young and who knows how many of these Others are lurking beyond the Wall.”

Jon’s words had silenced Ned, who was still trying to take in all this new information. Even he knew the tales about the Others. Still, it was hard to believe that such creatures could actually exist. And yet dragons have returned to the world…

There was also the question of the Wildlings. The harvest was good and the glass houses they had built for the coming winter would certainly be able to feed his people through the worst of it, but eighty-thousand additional mouths would stretch their stocks and he doubted his Lords would thank him for it.

And yet Eddard Stark was not a man to damn women and children to death.

He exhaled deeply and took a sip from his cup, before giving his opinion on the matter.

“I will speak to Mance Ryder and I am even prepared to negotiate with him, but first I need to inform my men. I cannot act without their approval. Yet I cannot ignore the Night’s Watch. I need to inform Lord Commander Mormont about your return and I also intend to invite him here to Winterfell. You need to inform him about your findings beyond the Wall.”

Jon swallowed hard, a hint of fear washing over his face.

“Nobody will harm you, my boy,” Ned assured him, though he certainly expected unkind reactions by certain people. It will be hard to convince the Lords of the existence of the Others, but it will even be harder to convince them to allow Wildlings pass the Wall.

Not that Ned Stark’s life was ever easy. He learned long ago that the gods like to make his life hard.

A hint of a smile hushed over Jon’s lips that warmed Ned’s heart. It reminded him of Lya.

“I thank you.”

Ned returned his smile.

“Don’t thank me. I thank you for informing me about the situation beyond the Wall. You came here not knowing what could happen to you, but still did your duty.”

Then he angled his head and shifted his attention to Princess Daenerys.

“I think there is much Jon and you need to talk about,” he added softly, his gaze flickering back to Jon. ”You should take your time to rest. Arya and Bran will return in a few days and with these two around you won’t have a single moment of peace and quiet.”

The mention of Bran and Arya lightened Jon’s face like a room full of candles.

“I will be pleased to see them again…,” he replied his voice laced with emotions. „And Lady Stark, Sansa and her babe. I will be pleased to meet them all.”

Then he and the Princess left, leaving only Ned and Robb.

“It will not be easy to convince the Lords,” Robb remarked, a serious expression taking hold of his face.

“True,” he said and stroked his beard. But what you said about the south is also true. Tywin Lannister will not help us to fight against these Others.”

“No,” Robb agreed. „He would laugh at us and hide away in Casterly Rock.”

“That is why we need a King. Someone we can rally around,” Ned explained.

“Jon is still sworn to the Watch,” Robb countered. „Only a King could free him from the vows and I doubt Steffon Baratheon will be prepared to help us in this matter.”

“I am well aware,” Ned replied, „But another King would serve as well. I don’t like it, but there is no other way. It seems I need to break the vow my ancestor gave to Aegon Targaryen. The North will break away from the Seven Kingdoms. I will name myself King and free Jon from his vows. I doubt the Lord Commander will protest if I offer him men to arm his castles and food to refill his stocks.”

Robb didn’t speak for a long time, his mouth opening and closing, no sound leaving his mouth.

“Jon will not agree,” Robb said at last last.

“Who else can rule?” Ned asked. „King Aegon’s daughter is a babe that might not even make it through winter. Princess Rhaenys is a girl, married to the enemy and my Lords will not accept her as Queen. Jon’s son is also a babe and cannot rule on his own. Jon is a grown man, was educated as a Prince and knows how to fight. We need a King and not a babe in swaddling clothes.”

“I agree with you father,” Robb added. „But the Dornish and the Tyrells will not accept it.”

“Mace Tyrell and the Dornish ought to be thankful that I am helping them. They certainly never did anything other than look down on me. Besides, we won’t be alone. I will convince Edmure and Royce to help us.”

“Uncle Edmure will not refuse you,” Robb said. „But Jeyne Arryn is still a hostage and I am sure most of the Vale lords are pleased with the turn of events. You know how much they hated King Rhaegar. It wouldn’t surprise me if they are silently cheering for Tywin.”

“Maybe,” Ned agreed. „But Royce will not. He is a man of honour and he shares my hatred for Tywin. And the others might approve of Tywin’s actions, but I doubt they changed their opinion about the Lord of the Rock. He and the other Vale Lords know what a treacherous snake he is. He didn’t do this for justice sake, but to satisfy his own pride. He thinks that Lady Jeyne is enough to keep the peace, but he will soon see how wrong he is about this.”

Robb nodded his head in agreement, determination displayed on his face.

“Aye, we will make sure that justice is done.”

…

**Daenerys**

**Winterfell, Twelfth Month of AC 301**

She didn’t want to let go of his hand, though she knew how the people in the castle looked at them. Jon swore a vow, but she couldn’t care less about a vow that was forced upon him. Jon seemed to think different, because worry was written all over his face.

Yet she didn’t want to speak about vows and the past. There was something he needed to know and she was more than thankful that Eddard Stark kept the matter to himself and allowed her to explain it herself.

“I am tired, Daenerys,” Jon remarked as they stopped before the door to her chambers. Well, it was Sansa’s former chambers, but she doubted Sansa would mind. „And the people, they will whisper.”

“Fuck the people!” she answered and pushed the door open, before turning around and gracing him with a smile.

”My time in Dorne numbed me against the whispering of the people,” she added and touched his cheek.”There is someone you should meet…”

Jon exhaled deeply and squeezed her hand resting on his cheek.

“Well, then introduce us,” he added, confusion showing on his face. Dany trembled as she opened the door.

Sansa’s chambers were more spacious than Arya’s and encompassed a smaller adjourning room that was once a nursery or that is what Arya had explained to her. When they were little Arya and Sansa had to share a room and the smaller room was meant for Bran and later Rickon. Arya was even kind enough to bring her Bran’s former crib.

“Come along,” she whispered and opened the door to the adjourning room, before making her way to the crib.

It was late and Aemon was asleep, but that didn’t matter to her. Jon will have enough time to get acquainted with his boy. It will take at least a week before the Lords of the North can make it here to Winterfell. Lord Commander Mormont’s travel might take even longer.

Quietly, she made her way to the crib and brushed her hand over Aemon’s curly black hair.

Normally, he would stir from his sleep, but it seems the long day had exhausted him.

The look of confusion painted on her face filled her both with dread and fear.

“Is that…a child?” he asked, his face growing even paler. The way he said it sounded as if he had never seen a child.

“Aye,” she replied and lifted her head, to meet his gaze.”His name his Aemon and he is our son.”

She expected his shocked expression, but raw pain washing over his face pierced her heart.

_Maybe I shouldn’t have been this blunt_.

But how else could she have told him? It was already hard enough for her to tell him.

“No…,” he stuttered and shuddered visibly, before leaning against the doorframe. Dany was quickly at his side, balancing him while he was gasping for air.

“Why…,” he stuttered, his voice barely a whisper.”Why did’t you send a rave? I might have…,” he continued, but her pitiful look silenced him.

“And what if someone found out?” she asked, old feelings stirring inside her back to life. „They would have forced me to kill him. That is why I kept it to myself. Besides, you said yourself that you don’t want to shed your brother’s blood. Thus, I played along and got wed as expected of me. I hated every minute of it.”

“I am sorry,” he apologized immediately, taking her in his arms. „All of this is a bit much to take in…I didn’t expect to find you here. I understand that it must have been hard for you…,” he continued, but his words woke the old feelings of anger.

“Hard for me?” she asked, a sob threatening to leave her mouth.”I had to marry a man I disliked.”

The memory made her want to retch, but it was all coming up now, much to her dread, but also to her relief. She needed to tell someone, even if it was not pretty.

“I can’t change the past…,” he replied weakly, he said at last and brushed his hand through her locks, his long dark hair tickling her face as she buried her head in her neck.”All I can do is ask for forgiveness…”

“I don’t need your apologies, because you did nothing wrong…I was just angry,” she admitted and pulled on his arm, leading him towards the crib.

Gently, she brushed her hand over Aemon’s head.”Don’t you think he is beautiful?”

“Very beautiful…I don’t think I have ever seen someone as beautiful as him,” Jon added, his voice growing soft like a feather. She felt utter relief washing over her, when she saw the small smile showing on his lips and even more so when he touched Aemon’s hand. Yet he didn’t linger long and pulled it back in a quick motion after the boy had moved his head to the side.

“I could wake him,” she offered, lacking the right words. It felt as if she unlearned to speak to him, the boy she had grown up with on Dragonstone. The two years apart felt suddenly like two lifetimes or maybe more. Why else did it feel as if everything was new between them? As if they had to start back at the beginning?

“No…let him sleep,” Jon whispered and took her hand.”We will have enough time on the morrow.”

“Aye,” she replied and followed him out of the room, closing the door behind her in the most gentlest of manner.

“Jon…!” she called after him as he let go of her hand.”Don’t ever leave me again. Can you promise me that?”

He stopped as if frozen to the ground. A moment of heavy silence followed, before he turned around and bridged the distance between them, his mouth crushing against hers.

She buried her hands in his hair, twisting and tagging as she tasted his tongue. Slowly, ever slowly, he kissed her, pulling her body against his.

It had been far too long and she the familiar spreading between her legs. She wanted him now, but all she could do was kiss him and pull on the laces of his black cloak.

He stopped abruptly, his dark eyes searching her purple ones.

“You can’t give that promise, can’t you?” she asked, her voice laced with sadness.

“I don’t know what will happen. First I need to help the Wildlings pass the Wall. My brothers and the Lords of the North will not like the idea…it will be difficult to convince them. And I don’t know if we can even defeat these Others…I have only encountered two of them so far and I don’t know how many more of them are lingering beyond the Wall.”

“You said that Valryian Steel can harm them,” she countered gently. He was always like this, ever the pessimist. He needed her to keep him from drowning in his stupid melancholy. „And we have two dragons. I will come with you and help you. Then we will free Rhaenys and defeat the Lannisters.”

“And then?” he prodded.

“I don’t know,” she replied and shrugged her shoulders.”I don’t care about the crown. Let Rhaenys or Aegon’s daughter have it. We could leave, fly away to Essos. We could travel to Asshai, Lys or even Yi Ti. We could see the world. Nobody there would care there about a stupid vow.”

“I always wanted to see Braavos,” he said and let go of her shoulder, but she grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast.”If you can’t give me your promise…Love me at least.”

“I gave a vow…,” he muttered weakly, but she cut him off.

“I know your vow. I memorized it. It says that you can’t wed or father children. Loving a woman is not forbidden.”

He chuckled, his hand cupping her breast through the wool-dress.”Please tell that to Lord Comander Mormont when he comes here…I want to see his face.”

“Is he such a grim man?” she asked and unbuttoned her dress, before slipping it down in one quick shove, leaving her only in her small clothes.

“Very grim, but fair. He dedicated his entire life to the Night’s Watch,” Jon explained, his warm breath tickling her cheek, before placing a kiss on her neck.

“Maybe, but I doubt they forced him to give the vow at swordpoint,” she countered, her hands working on his surcoat.”You never meant to leave me, did you?”

“No,” he whispered and helped her eagerly, squeezed her breasts, kissed them and licked them in a way that left her gasping for air.

Somehow in between, he managed to pull off his boots, followed by his breeches. She pulled down his smallclothes for him, before she went to her knees and pleasured him with her mouth. She had done so before, but it seems his actions caught him completely off guard.

He gasped and moaned as she quickened the pace. At last he whispered her name and came with a muffled cry.

She brushed her lips and rose back to her feet, before placing a kiss on his lips.

He was still gasping for air, his dark eyes almost purple in the candlelight.

“Come,” she told him.”I missed your kiss…,”

He laughed, scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Again he cupped her breasts and kissed them, before moving between her legs.

A low moan escaped her lips as he continued to kiss her there. It was like a warm kindling flame soon turned to dragonfire as her release washed over her.

She was gasping for air as he moved back up to kiss her again. She returned the kiss, tasting herself on his lips.

He pulled on her hips, covered her and slipped inside her with one quick thrust. She gasped, wrapping her hands around his waist as she continued to kiss him, to stifle her own whimpers.

His movements’ grew uneven as he quickened his pace, his breathe leaving his mouth in short puffs of air. She held him firm as he pulsed inside her, and wavering moan escaping his lips as his fingernails digged into her hip.

Then he slumped down beside her, but still inside her.

“You don’t have to worry about fathering children…,” she assured him at last, brushing his sweaty hair out his face.”I will go to the Maester. One day you will marry me and then we will have many more children.”

“Aye,” he said, his voice strained and distant to her ears. Then he buried his head in her neck and slept. „Yes…when all is over. I promise.”

She laughed.

“Was that so hard?”

…


End file.
